


Continuing On

by Wessa5ever



Category: Infernal Devices Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-07-18
Packaged: 2018-02-03 06:03:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1733768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wessa5ever/pseuds/Wessa5ever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tessa Gray has nowhere to go and has no idea what she's doing. Forced to leave her life in New York to live with her brother in London, she uproots and starts over, only with no support or anyone to rely on. When she is taken in by a family that already has multiple children with their own problems, will she be given the strength to continue on?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

She opened her window and looked out passed the blackish water under the boat; passed the bleak landscape of London's dawn and the fervor that was slowly generating in the streets. She tried to imagine her home in New York. She pictured her cubby she had created out of stacks of books. It hadn't been ideal, but she had nowhere else to put her tremendous amount of books, so it turned into her fort. The fort proceeded to be her shelter from high school drama, emotional turmoil, and her brother's drunken escapades. It transported her to innumerable different dimensions. The fort reminded her that her life could be much worse. After her aunt's death, she burrowed in the shelter and was reminded that she could be living in England or Germany during World War II. After she received the news from her brother that she would be moving across the ocean to England to live with him, she was reminded that she could have been the creator of a life form that wanted to murder her and everyone that she had ever loved. She simply had to sit and she drifted away from reality into a cold circle of hell.

The girl now turned away from the window, closing the curtain in her wake. Of course, she knew she couldn't return to her home; not yet, at least. She had no known family, or any family that chose to acknowledge her, anywhere in New York or in the entirety of America. A barely-sixteen-year-old girl with no job or way of supporting herself, could not possibly live on her own. Her only living relative was her brother, who had moved to England after graduating from NYU for better job opportunities in his field. She didn't know what he meant by "his field." Sometimes she believed his field was drinking or gambling. She loved her brother and missed him dearly, but she couldn't quite grasp why she had to uproot her life and move to a different country. He was the adult; shouldn't he move back to America? They had a nice enough apartment in a nice enough area. She had nice enough friends and a nice enough school. Her aunt had left her a nice enough amount of money in her will. They both have nice enough funds in trusts their parents had left them after their deaths. Well, she did. Her brother probably spent it all the second he turned 18. Her brother barely had enough money for her to take a boat trip for two weeks to arrive in London. She didn't want to think about how he was going to support them living together, and eventually, her going to college. She intended on getting a job as soon as she could, but first she had to put her life back in order. Finishing school included.

The girl glanced sadly at the chests in her cabin. There were two. One filled with some of her clothing and such, and the other stuffed with her favorite books. She had three other trunks stowed away, two of them also filled with books. She managed to, heartbreakingly, dissemble her fort book by book. Her brother said they only had enough funds to allow her to bring five trunks. Her whole life in five trunks. Clothing was unimportant to her. She managed to pack all of her clothes, shoes, accessories, and makeup into two large trunk. She actually realized she had much more clothing than she first believed. The books were harder. She discarded the books she thought were mediocre or not entertaining. Also books she wouldn't want to read again. Even though she didn't like those books, it still felt like stabbing her soul with needles. She told herself that it would be good for her; refreshing and rejuvenating. It needed to be done. The rest of the books, thankfully, fit into her last three large trunks. She still wept for the ones that were left behind, but she resolved that they were a waste of both space and time.

She turned back to the window and sat on her small bed. The shore was approaching fast now. The rain was pouring harder. The darkness of both her life and London was coming. Her love and joy was fleeing. The time for seeing her brother for the first time in a year was soon. She had no idea where she was going or what she was doing. Her fort was gone. Reality was suffocating her. She didn't want to continue. She had to continue.


	2. Total Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People don’t get picked up by strange people in black vans in New York. Well, at least I haven’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I will be updating daily, or at least twice or three times a week, for as long as i feel like it, which should be a while because it is summer and i have no life. Any way, the first three or four chapters are just intros and the good stuff starts later. OH yeah all the characters belong to Cassandra Clare who ruined my life, and the plot is somewhat like "The Fosters" except not really. Okay. I'm done.

The first step I took off the ship was a godsend. The second was a living hell. To stop my self from falling backwards into the ocean, I grabbed onto a cold, wet, metal pole. I couldn't help but add the vertigo I was feeling to the list titled, "Why New York is So Much Better Than London:"

_Number 21: New York doesn't spin._

I realized that, of course, the world wasn't actually spinning- well, the world is technically always spinning, but not from a human's perspective. I was only trying to stack up arguments against staying in the horrid place. London is iconic in books and movies and is a girl's dream. Maybe in a different situation, I would've appreciated the change. But, right now, it just felt like karma was finally biting me in the ass for when I stole my brother's dollar when I was six. Screw you, six-year-old self.

When my vision cleared, and I loosened my relentless grip on the pole, I could finally take in my surroundings. It was about seven in the morning and absolutely freezing. March in London has yet to be fun. The traffic on the street, far in front of me, was already congested. Big burly men were unloading the ship. Some of the men looked beaten up or like they had been in jail for a part of their lives. Put them in nautical pirate costumes, and make them say "heave-ho" and they'd be perfect actors the newest show to hit London's stage:  _Peter Pan_. The luggage was being taken off the boat and brought into the large building to my left.  _Great_ , I thought,  _customs_. I was definitely not in the mood, nor was my stomach. I felt like I wanted to "heave-ho" my lunch into the Thames.

I hauled my shoulder bag up my arm and stepped towards the customs building. When I entered inside, I was hit with a rancid wave of humid air. Everyone else on the boat had apparently already vacated and was now lined up in one medium-sized room, myself in the very back. I stood for 12 minutes and didn't move up once. I figured it would be a long time before my attention was required, so I took my paperback out of my bag. I didn't bother looking at what book it was. It was always the same. I turned to a random page and started reading.

"Never did the sun go down with a brighter glory on the quiet corner in Soho, than one memorable evening when the Doctor and his daughter sat under the plane-tree together. Never did the moon rise with a milder radiance over great London, than on that night when it found them still seated under the tree, and shone upon their faces through its leaves. Lucie was to be married to-morrow.  
She had reserved this last evening for her father, and they sat alone under the plane-tree."

Someone cleared their throat loudly behind me. I raised my head and saw that the line had moved up 7 feet while I read the paragraph.  _Of course, right when I start reading. The world hates me. It is a fact. It just does._  I mumbled in my head about the world's and my mutual contempt as I closed the space between me and the people in front of me. I opened  _A Tale of Two Cities_  again, read a paragraph, looked up, and if no one had moved up, I would continue to read. This process continued for one hour and forty-five minutes, until I finally reached the end of my book and also the line. The customs worker quickly stamped my visa and my forms, asked me questions, and then ushered me through. I went passed security and emerged to go and find my belongings. I searched the rows of luggage, until I saw my plain brown ones in the back corner. After successfully getting the trunks into my possession with few casualties, I searched for Nate. I had told him when I would get into port. I had told him to arrive an hour and a half later because of the hassle it is to get off the boat. It was like him to be late, so I didn't worry. I sat down in a chair on the side of the room and started the book over. After 30 more minutes, I began to worry. Surely he hadn't forgotten, but of course, I wouldn't put that past Nate. I pulled out my phone and dialed his number. It went straight to voicemail. This was disconcerting. Nate was always on his phone. He never had it off or not around. I rocketed out of my chair and tried dialing again, with no such luck. He didn't answer the second time, or the third, or the fourth. Not even the sixth, seventh, or eighth. I gripped my long, brown hair and pulled. It was a nervous habit. When I raised my watery, grey eyes, I was met with two pairs of almost black ones. I screeched and almost tripped backwards over my trunks.

"Calm down, child." Said one pair of eyes. The owner was a short, plump woman. She had dark, greying hair, and wore a floor length, drab, black dress. Her coat was worn and covered in cat hair.

"Are you Theresa Gray?" The other pair of eyes glared at me. I cringed inwardly. I hated people using my full name. It reminded me of my mother, whom I had barely known when she was alive. The woman, in comparison to the other one, was tall and bone skinny. She looked malnourished. She was wearing the same outfit as the other lady, even the same size. The dress was far too large and far too short. The coat dwarfed her and appeared to be even filthier.

"Why? What do you want?" I glared back at the tall one. My eyes wavered and I cursed myself. I should've denied it immediately. Instead, I basically confirmed it. The short woman took a step closer to me; I promptly took one back.

"We are here in Nathaniel Gray's place to pick you up and take you to our dwelling." I narrowed my eyes at the short woman, who had just spoken.

"Why isn't he here?"

"He unexpectedly became engaged in a matter of importance and is tied up." I could've sworn I saw the taller woman snicker. When I looked, though, her face was back to a mask of cruel indifference.

"Who are you?"

The plump woman answered, "I am Mrs. Black, and this is my sister, Mrs. Dark. You may call us the Dark Sisters."  _Nice and cheery_ , I thought.

"How do I know to trust you?" I said, hoping that they had no proof. Mrs. Dark snapped her bony fingers behind her and a tall man with bulgy eyes and thin, plaster-like hair stepped in front of me, his hand reaching out. He was holding a paper out to me, but I couldn't take my eyes off of him. He was deformed, walking almost robotically and his face looked as if it could fall off very soon.  _Maybe he has arthritis?_  I shook all thoughts out of my head and quickly snatched the paper out of his hand.

_"_ _Dear Tessie,"_

I gasped and looked up at the three. Only Nate called me Tessie. It was also in his handwriting.

_"_ _I am terribly sorry that I couldn't have been there to pick you up. I have gotten rather enthralled in some work and couldn't find a possible way to get out of it. I have sent the Dark Sisters in my place. Please don't give them a hard time; I know how stubborn you can be. They will take you to the apartment we are staying in. They are the renters. I will be home as soon as I can._

_I can't wait to see you,_

_Nate_."

I held the letter to my chest. It sounded somewhat different than Nate, but I just assumed that he had matured over the past year. I thought back to his words and silently had a debate with my inner self.

"Fine," I said to the sisters, "Let's go, I suppose." The man stepped behind me and grabbed my cart of luggage, and I followed behind the sisters. They walked to the parking lot and stopped in front of a large, black van. It also looked like a hearse. I felt like I was willingly walking to my rape, or my funeral. The man put my luggage in the back of the car and then opened my door and escorted me into the car. His hand was clammy and cold. A shiver went down my spine. I hated these people. This was just another thing to add to my list.

_Number 22: People don't get picked up by strange people in black vans in New York. Well, at least I haven't._


	3. Waterlogged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If it wasn't for my sense of nothingness, I would've felt right at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY SO I AM SORRY IF THIS IS BORING. THIS WILL BE THE LAST SHORT AND BORING CHAPTER. HOPEFULLY. DON'T ABANDON ME. ALL CHARACTERS ARE STILL CASSANDRA CLARE'S K?
> 
> ALSO NEXT CHAPTER IS GOING TO BE FROM WILL'S PERSPECTIVE SO THAT THINGS WILL BE A LITTLE SHAKEN UP. OKAY? YAYYY!

The ride to my new home was a long one. The man drove in the front seat and the Dark sisters sat on either side of me in the back. They smelled as badly as they looked. Nobody talked. I tried to look out the windows to take in London, but all I saw was traffic.  _What a great city_ , I thought to myself and rolled my eyes. I leaned back into my chair and tried to get comfortable, but my attempts were pointless, as there seemed to be no possible way in the tight fit. I silently groaned and sat still. I couldn't read. One reason was that I got horrible motion sickness. Another was that my shoulder bag was in the trunk.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, we pulled into a garage and the car parked. The driver hopped out and opened the door for Mrs. Dark. I was forced to grab his hand again. We were in a large parking garage with a few cars. The cars all appears to be in great need of a paint job, or to be put down. The walls of the garage were stained grey with what looked like mold and water. The ground had a three centimeters thick sheen of water covering it, like it had been flooded. The gate to the garage was rusted and falling apart and there was a water damaged wood door leading to the rest of the building. Nate had great taste in homes. I groaned again for the eighth time that day. Suddenly the wooden door creaked open and a girl stepped out. She was older than me, I thought so at least. I couldn't tell if she was fourteen or forty. She seemed timeless. She had the same bulging features as the man. I assumed they were related. She stepped towards the dark sisters.

Mrs. Dark looked away from the girl, as if she would be infected with a deadly disease. Like she was below her. "Theresa, this is Miranda, the house keeper and maid. She will show you to your apartment. Follow her. He," Mrs. Dark jabbed her thumb in the man's direction," will take your trunks to your apartment." With that, she and her sister walked away from me and into the building.

Miranda turned on her heel and walked towards the door, not looking back to make sure I was following. I quickly scooped up my bag and ran after her. We went down a musty hallway and up a small flight of steps to another door. She opened it and continued on to a place that seemed to be a lobby. There were holes in the couches and stains on the carpet. The wall paper was a depressing blue that had seen better days. There was a booth where she guessed a manager was supposed to sit, but it was vacated. One chair was turned over and the two elevators were both crossed off with caution tape. I couldn't believe people lived here. It seemed to be an abandoned hotel. I looked after Miranda and saw she was holding a door open for me. It was to the stairwell. We walked up three flights and then went thorough another door and down a hall, where Miranda stopped in front of a door. I almost crashed into her. She unlocked the door with a key and opened it, ushering me in.

"This is your apartment. I hope you find it satisfying. If not, take it up with your brother. He should be home by nightfall. That is what I was told by him." Miranda spun away and closed the door. I gripped my bag and looked around. The apartment was a small improvement to what the lobby had been. I was in a small hallway. To my direct left was a door and inside was a bathroom with dirty tiles and a bathtub/shower, toilet, and sink, all in about 12 square feet. On the right side of the hallway, there was an archway that led into a kitchen. The white walls were grimy and peeling. The appliances looked like they were from the 1950s. I walked to the fridge to see if it was even on or functioning; it surprising was, along with only one of the burners on the stove and the oven. I also noticed that there were only various forms of alcohol in the fridge. The cabinets were filled with chips and junk food. I walked fully down the hall into a living room. It was floored with the same beige carpet as the rest of the apartment. There was a matching couch and armchair that were in okay condition. There was a coffee table and then a television. A flat screen. The only nice thing in the place. There were windows in the living room with a view of the city, other than the other windows that only had a view of the rest of the apartment complex. Except, I could only see miles and miles of streets and asphalt and buildings.  _It's not very different from New York_ , I thought. If it wasn't for my sense of nothingness, i would've felt right at home.

There were two doors on either side of the living room. I peeked into one and saw men's clothes, alcohol bottles, and trash everywhere. I immediately concluded that it was Nate's and went to the other room. The second room was painted the same old white with the same dirty carpet. The bed was a twin and had an old floral comforter on it that looked like the ones in cheap motel rooms. There was a pillow in the bed and one overhead light. There was a large art-deco armoire, a closet, and a set of drawers. There was also a large bookshelf and a window behind the bed. The room appeared nicer than the others, with more intact furniture. I felt a small pang of happiness in my abdomen, rising up my body, when I thought of Nate doing all of this for me. There was suddenly a knock on the door. I dropped my bag abruptly, and ran for the door, hoping it was Nate. As I swung it open, I was let down. It was just the driver man with my trunks. Thinking of the books inside of the trunks made me happier. Without a sound the man brushed past me and carried in the trunks and laid them in my room. A small part of me questioned how he knew where my room was, but he left and slammed the door before I could ask.

* * *

After three hours of unpacking, Nate still wasn't back, and I was thoroughly worn out. I got plenty of sleep on the ship, but I supposed boat-lag was catching up with me. I looked at the bed, but decided that I didn't trust it's cleanliness. I looked in the full length mirror that hung on the back of my door. I was taller than an average girl. I looked paler and skinnier than i had a few months ago. My face was sunken. My eyes were more grey than blue. My hair was a mess and I was moist. I stripped off my sweaty old clothes and threw on some jeans and a sweater. I stuffed the comforter, sheets, pillow covers, and my clothes into a large trash bag I found in the kitchen cupboards. I looked around the apartment and decided to put Nate's blankets and dirty clothes in the bag to launder also. He was letting me live with him, cleaning up a little was the least I could do. I was also hungry, and seeing that I feeling that if I ate greasy food, I would throw up, I needed to go to the super market too. I took out my wallet and the trash bag and went to look for the dark sisters or Miranda or someone to tell me where I should go.

* * *


	4. Building Walls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was too busy staring at Jessamine's enormous cleavage.

Will

 _Shit. Shit. Shit_. The door creaked as I attempted to quietly open it. It was half-past one, and if Jem and I were caught sneaking in, Charlotte would behead us. Well, maybe not behead us. This isn't Victorian times. Did they behead people in Victorian times? I would have to ask Jem later. I lightly slipped inside the house and motioned Jem in after me, so I could silently shut it. The next plight was to make it up the stairs without waking the household. We were a quarter up the stairs when a noise was heard from below us, in the kitchen.

 _Ignore it, Will. You can't blow your position._  I shook my head and continued up, but I noticed that Jem was descending. I made silent screams in his direction and frantic hand movements, but he pointedly ignored me. I followed after him, of course. What else was I supposed to do? Should he have been caught, Charlotte would have already assumed it was my doing also. It would have been better, of course, if we weren't blamed for anything. But, unfortunately, something else was going through Jem's mind.

Jem rounded the corner into the kitchen. When I was in view, I could barely see anything. It was pitch black, save for the soft glow of the moonlight streaming through the window and reflecting off pans and appliances. When my eyes adjusted, I saw Jem, holding a cat. He was holding the bluish cat from hell, to be exact. Church, like half of the creatures in the world, hated my guts. The other half of the creatures of the world adored my guts. Jem rescued the cat from a pound as a sort of therapy animal. I couldn't think of anyway that beast was therapeutic, unless Jem thought me getting scratched to a pulp was relaxing. The cat was so black it appeared blue and it had bright yellow eyes. I chose to believe he was part demon, or dropped in toxic waste as a kitten, and that is what was wrong with him.

When the cat saw me approaching it hissed, as loud as a banshee, and pounced. I made a sort of manly-scream and ducked. The cat hadn't moved though. Jem was murmuring soothing words to it. A moment later, a light turned on upstairs.

I straightened up and glared at Jem. "You disloyal bastard. You ratted us out, and for what? A cat?" I spat at him, but not full of hatred. I could never be mad at Jem.

"Do not be mistaken, my dear William. I did not "rat us out." I was simply saying goodnight to my cat. You did not have to follow me and run the risk of being attacked by my loving kitty." Jem crooned at the creature that was still glaring at me.

"Loving?" I scoffed, "That cat isn't loving to anyone but you and you know it. And of course I followed you, I thought it would be Charlotte, and she would've accused me anyway."

"You heard  _meowing_  and thought it was Charlotte?" Jem raised a silver eyebrow at me.

"I didn't hear  _meowing_ , I heard more of a  _cawcaw_ , the shriek of a predatory Charlotte going in for the kill-"

" _Cawcaw_." I heard the feminine voice from behind me and saw Charlotte's petite, bird-like figure standing in the shadows. I saw Henry's larger one behind her, fumbling for a light switch. When he flicked it on, I saw her light brown hair tumbling down her back in a disheveled fashion, her hands on her small hips.

"Hello, Charlotte. Such a lovely morning it is, don't you think?" I smiled my glare-worthy smile. With success, Charlotte promptly narrowed her brown eyes.

" _William Owen Herondale_ ," she spoke in a hushed voice, which made her even more terrifying, "what are you doing sneaking in this late at night? It is  _hardly_  morning! You are being irresponsible and reckless. Henry and I have work early in morning, and you and Jem have your first day of school, but you are too inconsiderate to take us into account." She switched her gaze over to Jem and spoke in a softer tone. "Jem, I appreciate you keeping an eye on Will, but you need your rest. Next time, convince him to not go out, instead of following along." She turned back to me, "I swear William, one more incident like this and we are sending you to Uganda."

She turned and stomped back upstairs. I found it hard to believe she was only 24. Henry's brown eyes followed his wife up the stairs. He looked to me and shook out his messy red hair.

Henry came forward and put his large hand on my shoulder, "You know she isn't serious, right? She loves you as if she were your mother. She is just looking out for you. She is worried about you, but she has a lot of work at the institute, and I have much to do at the station. Please, just cause trouble during the day, if you must." Henry turned and followed his wife up the stairs.

Of course, I knew Charlotte wasn't serious. I didn't even know where Uganda was. I turned to face Jem, "I have two questions for you," Jem nodded and I continued, "The first is: were there beheadings in Victorian times?"

Jem looked at me with questioning eyes. He quickly rolled them back, as if deciding that he didn't want to know my reasoning, "I believe they still did, but it wasn't common or popular. The next one?"

"Where is Uganda?"

"Do you ever pay attention in geography? It's in Africa." Jem walked up the stairs to his room holding Church, who was still shooting dagger eyes at me. I followed him up and laid in bed, awake. I fought sleep for as long as I was willing to, so that I wouldn't be forced to suffer the dreams in my head. It was terrible, being afraid or yourself.

* * *

I awoke to an incessant tapping on my door. As my head cleared, I realized it was more of a loud pounding followed by my shrieking sister's voice.

"William! If you don't get up, you'll make us late for school again. And it's the first day! I've tried to convince Jem to leave without you, but you know that'll never happen, so get your ass up!"

I slowly kicked off my covers and walked over to my door and opened it, "Cecily, a lady shouldn't curse, it's unbecoming."

She rolled her crystalline eyes at me and then flicked her long black hair in my face and headed down stairs. I looked at her floral dress that went to her knees and her wedged heels. I didn't mind the outfit, it was more modest than girls her age, 15, wore, but I always loved teasing her.

"Cecily, you are dressing like you belong in a brothel!"

"Screw you, William!" She shouted from downstairs.

"Again with the cursing," I murmured as I walked to the bathroom. After I quickly showered last nights dreams of the horrid memories of Ella's motionless body and Jem coughing blood on white walls off of me, I built up my act for the day, got dressed in some jeans and a white t-shirt, and went down stairs. I walked into the kitchen and passed the table where Henry, Jem, Cecily, Sophie, Thomas, and Jessamine were all sitting. Whenever I see them all together, I am astounded by how many of us there are.

 _Charlotte is a saint_ , my thought seeped through. I shook the caring bit of my brain away, but I did truly believe it. After the death of her parents when she was 19 and had just gotten married to Henry, they left her with all of their fortune. And let me just say, it was a fortune. She didn't go on a tour around the world with Henry, or spend it all on material crap; she opened a school. It was a public school, but it offered fantastic education and only for students who want to learn. They don't have to show intelligence. It wasn't based on test scores, but being accepted there is based on the student's desire and their promise. Another thing she and Henry did was take in foster children. The estate Charlotte's parents had left her was certainly large enough and they had enough money to do so.

The first one of us they took in was Jem. He was 12 at the time, about five years ago. Jem's parents had both died tragically of AIDS. They both didn't know they had HIV until after Jem was born. HIV can be passed through parent to parent to child, and it happened. Jem had no family left except for an uncle, who wasn't willing to take in a child that would cost so much money to keep alive, so he was put into the foster system, but again, no parents would want him because of the expense. Finally, when Charlotte and Henry decided they would adopt or foster children because they were having no luck on their own, he was the one they chose. Charlotte loved Jem since day one, or so I have been told. She never cared about his disease, or how much it would cost her. She saw the good in his heart, and how undeserving the child was. He had a heart of gold, in stark contrast to his silver appearance.

For a few years he had been getting a lot better. His uncle, Elias, came one day when we were fourteen and asked Jem if he wanted to move in with him. Jem politely declined. I could tell it was because of me. Since I have met him, he has gotten both better and worse. It has been getting harder to tell. He hasn't been diagnosed with AIDS yet, but I think he is getting closer to it. He is on a strict diet and exercise plan, but with no cure, I don't know what will happen. I don't like thinking about what would happen to my best friend should he be diagnosed with AIDS.

One year later, I was brought into the Branwell household. I was 12, and had come in from Wales. I hate thinking about that year. I know it wasn't my fault. But I can't let it go. I was the man of the family. I should've protected Ella, even if she was older than I. Now, it's too hard to let people in, for I fear I will let them down, or that their fate will be the same as Ella's. So I keep them out.

I truly liked Jem when I first met him, so I tried the hardest to push him away. Once, I was doing arithmetic work. Jem was sitting across the table from me and saw that I was struggling. I always knew when Jem was around. He had strange bright grey hair, basically silver, and the same color eyes. He told me it was a rare family genetic thing or something. The light always caught on his hair and is sometimes blinding. He asked if he could help, and I said yes, by dying. He looked me straight in the eye, and grinned a humorless grin and said, "It's too late for that, I already am."

I had brushed him off, at the time. Sometimes Jem was philosophical, even for a thirteen year old, I just assumed he was talking about the inevitability of death. Later that day I was discussing the conversation with Charlotte, and after a harsh chastising for telling him to die, I was told that he, in fact, was actually dying. When he moved in with her he had only a few months left, and it had been more than 15 months since then. I decided that Jem would be my one exception; my one sin. I was hit with a sharp pang of opprobrium when I thought about it. My reasoning was that since Jem was already dying, what difference would it make if I somehow got him hurt? It is too late now to change what I had done, that was almost five years ago. I already loved Jem, in a different way than I loved Charlotte and Henry, and all the other people surrounding me at the table. My 12-year-old self was a douche bag. Now, Jem and I are partners in crime. We are almost inseparable. What I do, he reluctantly agrees to. What he does, I follow and just bring a book with me.

Jessamine came when I was almost 15. Jem was a few months older than I. Let me just say that she was not a ray of sunshine. I have always thought Jessamine was beautiful, even when she was fourteen and soaked in her own tears. Her curling golden hair and deep chocolate eyes were a nice combination. But, she was annoying as hell. She has grown on me though. When she arrived, all she did was cry, which was understandable. Her parents had died in a house fire, and her only possession she had left was a dollhouse. None of her relatives would take her in, so she was forced into the foster system. She ended up with the Branwells, but refused to accept her status as a "filthy orphan." Living in a mansion with rich parents didn't seem to change her mind on the filthy part. I have always felt bad for her. She didn't feel accepted, but it is hard to pity a person who acts like a total bitch all of the time. I suppose we are one in the same. Charlotte and Henry tried to make her feel loved and accepted; they made her feel like she was their own child, like they did with all of us. She has gotten better, but I think she still resents all of us for some reason. That reason, I don't really understand.

Sophie and Thomas came together, only a short three months after Jessamine did. The pair met in the foster system. Thomas was sixteen, almost seventeen, at the time. Sophie was fourteen. Thomas was a runaway, whom everyone had given up hope in. But not the Branwells. They thought they could do good for him; they could send him to the institute, get him a job. Now he is 19 and in college. He is working part-time at a horse ranch. He has moved out and is living on campus, which is only a few from from here, so he stops in every once in a while.

Sophie is a different story. She went from home to home, but not in the foster system. Her mom had many a boyfriend. One boyfriend just didn't think Sophie's mother was enough. He attempted to rape her and slashed her face with a knife when she put up a fight and screamed. Thank the Angel that her mother came home in time. A neighbor called Child Protective Services, and like the rest of us, she had nowhere to go but the foster system; and like the rest of us, she ended up with the Branwells.

I think Sophie had completely given up on herself. She blamed herself for what happened and thought herself hideous. She was actually quite pretty with her nice chocolate hair and eyes and porcelain skin. The scar wouldn't be a big deal if she acted as if she didn't care about it. Sophie was terribly depressed. Charlotte got her counseling, and slowly she came out of her shell. (Charlotte tried to get me to go to counseling, but every time she asked, I declined.) Now, when I sass Sophie, she can sass me right back. Sometimes, though, I see her staring in a mirror, gazing hatefully at her scar. It breaks my heart.

Cecily was the last of us to come. It happened fairly recently, actually. We are biological brother and sister. After I was taken by CPS, she was hidden by my mother. I once made the mistake of telling Charlotte about my little sister, who was out there with only our broke mother, whom I missed terribly. Charlotte made it her duty to find the girl and ask our mother for custody of Cecily. One day, about four months ago, I came home and opened the door to find the same blue eyes, black hair, and innocent face staring up at me, with tears in her eyes. I had to hold back my own. When I was younger, I didn't want her to be found, for I would just kill her too. Now that I'm older, I am just relieved that she is okay.

I said my good mornings to the group as I poured myself a bowl of cereal. I looked at all of their glowing faces and thought to myself how much I loved each and every one of them, all in a unique way. It physically pained me to have to push them away like I do. Sometimes I think that it has been enough time. I tell myself that I need to forgive myself. I tell myself that the walls should come down. But when I try to tear them down, something reinforces them. Only Jem can loosen them, and only on occasion. Maybe one day…

"Did you hear me, Will?" I was broken out of my reverie by Henry's voice. The walls immediately took action.

"Hmm? No, I'm sorry. I was too busy staring at Jessamine's enormous cleavage." There was a collective gasp around the table. Jessamine spat out the tea she was drinking.

" _Wiiliam_!" Jessamine practically gaped at me.

"What? If you didn't want everyone to look at you, me included, you shouldn't have worn such an exposing top."

"William, that was disgusting and horrible," Cecily seethed.

I leaned against the counter and continued eating my cereal. I shrugged my shoulders indifferently, "How so?"

Cecily pushed her chair back and slammed her hands down on the table, "It is like saying that a person, particularly a woman, is asking to be raped because she is showing too much skin," I saw Sophie cringe, "Why must you say such horrible things?"

Cecily looked close to tears. She didn't look angry, just pitiful. I looked across the other's faces. Henry was calculating. He and Charlotte knew what happened with Ella. They try not to judge me, but to coax me out of my moods. Jem also knew the story, but he looked disappointed. Sophie just looked uncomfortable and Jessamine was furious. Thomas was trying to calm Jessamine.

"Oh. I am terribly sorry if I put a damper on things, but we're going to be late for school. Let's go. It was great seeing you Thomas, maybe our next meeting will be more pleasant." With that, I grabbed my bag and was about to stroll out the door when Henry called me.

"Will, I know you are going to be busy this year with sports and such, but please try and make friends." I began to groan but he held up his hand, "I know, I know, it's the same spiel as always, but I am serious. Maybe get a girlfriend- or, uh, a boyfriend, I- its- whatever feels right." Henry reached up and scratched his head. I resisted the urge to burst out laughing.

"Oh, Henry! You didn't know that I was in a relationship? Well, I have been, for quite some time. A beautiful damsel, named Six-Finger Nigel." I smiled at the group. Eveyone groaned; they had all heard multiple stories of my late-night drunken adventures with many interesting people. I looked at the time and knew we would be late for the first day of school if we didn't leave now.

"Vámanos, andale people!" I clapped my hands at everyone. They grabbed their things and shuffled out the door. When they were all out I grabbed the door knob and smiled at Henry and Thomas, "Au revoir, hasta luego!" And then I shut the door.


	5. See Right Through Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He is a spoiled rotten little twat that deserves to have a miserable life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALL CHARACTERS ARE CASSANDRA CLARE'S

 

-Will-

I noticed when I opened the door and sat down in Jem's car, he was giving me a look. The look was all too familiar. He was worried about me. He was the only one who could truly see through my façade. Charlotte and Henry both knew the story of what happened, and they have both been told that it was just an act, but I could see their hope wavering every once in a while. I didn't think I would be able to bear the day when their hope was completely extinguished, but that was the direction I was heading in. If that day ever comes, I have dug my grave and I would have to lie in it.

I gave Jem my "What? I'm fine!" roll of my eyes and buckled my seatbelt. I looked in the rear-view mirror, only to find Jessamine still fuming at me.  _Good_ , I thought,  _at least she won't try to "help" me get better._  Cecily was staring out the window. She also looked worried, but there was a hint of sadness in her gaze. It must've been because I reminded her of Ella. Sophie was just closing her eyes in between the two. I believed she was asleep.

Jem started the car, and thus we began our journey to our first day of school at the Institute. Since Charlotte founded the school, she was the principal. She had many other duties too, but principal most prominently. Charlotte always left before us in the mornings so she would arrive at seven. We usually got there five minutes before the first bell rang at 7:50. I was now in year 12, along with Jem. Sophie and Jessamine were both year 11. Cecily was in year 10. Today was Cecily's first day at the institute ever. When she arrived, there hadn't been enough time left in the school year to enroll her, so she studied online to keep up. I could tell she was nervous. Her leg was bouncing and she was gnawing on her lip. I wanted to reach out to her and tell her it was okay, but that certainly wouldn't happen, not with all of these people in the car.

Without turning around I said, "Cecily do want to have stitches in your lip on your first day? No? Well, then stop biting it ragged."

Cecily looked surprised by my comment. She tried to look down at her lips, which she couldn't, as if she hadn't realized she was doing it. She looked down and murmured a quick "sorry." It pained me.

When Jem pulled into the student parking lot, we all went as a group to get our schedules. I lingered in the back and pulled Cecily next to me. I stopped walking and looked at her.

"Cecily, you're going to do great here. Just be yourself and don't change for anyone. No one deserves you as a friend, so don't feel the need to put yourself out there, okay? You can sit with Jem and me at lunch, if you must. I know Sophie said she would show you around, but if you need help, come to me." I said this quickly, almost in one breath. I looked down at her. Her mouth was making a small "O." I didn't act like a caring big brother often, only once in a blue moon. Hell, I didn't act like a caring anything. Her expression was priceless.

I realized that our family had not waited, and were now in the lines for their schedules. I shot a quick smile at Cecily and walked away to stand next to Jem. She remained staring at me for a few more seconds until she shook herself out of it and followed me.

"Cecily, the lines are sorted by years," I pointed to the line past the year 11 line, "That would be year 10." Cecily nodded and turned, only to bump directly into the chest of none other than Gabriel Lightwood. That boy was infuriating. When we were younger, 12 or 13, we were at his house and I heard his father on the phone with someone whom I believed was a doctor. He was saying how he had just gotten back from a foreign country and when he went to a bathroom, there was a worm coming out of him. A bloody long one. At the time, I found it fascinating. Now I think it's both disgusting and amusing. I've called the Lightwoods "Lightworms" from time to time since.

Gabriel and I always competed. When I was attracted to a girl, he suddenly had to have her. With his brown hair and green eyes, he wasn't unattractive. Women usually preferred my raven hair and blue eyes, but I would simply give up when Gabriel set his eyes on a woman. It simply wasn't worth it. When I was on a sports team, he tried, and failed, to get a better position than mine. He and his brother Gideon were both in year 12 also. Gideon looked like Gabriel, but a little shorter, bulkier, and had sandy blonde hair. Gideon had just turned 18 while Gabriel turned 17 only two months before I did, which was last month.

Now, he and my sister were staring into each other's eyes. Gabriel's hands were on her biceps, holding her still against his body. They appeared to be frozen. That was  _not_ okay.

"Get your grubby little hands off my sister, Lightworm," I spat through my teeth. He lowered his arms and scowled at me. Cecily stumbled backwards. I was two inches taller than Gabriel, so he had to look up at me.

" _Your_ sister?" Gabriel laughed, "That is just fantastic! Does she have a diary? Hmm? Maybe I should read it in front of the  _entire school_." He deepened his scowl at me. Cecily looked appalled and confused. When we were younger, Gabriel's little sister, Tatiana Lightwood, was infatuated with me. She would follow me around when I was at the Lightwood's, and never leave me alone. When I was in year nine and she was in year seven, we were at the school's Christmas ball. She wouldn't let me breathe, so I reached into her bag, grabbed her diary, and read it on stage. Charlotte stopped me before I could read more than four pages out loud, but everyone had already gotten the point. Tatiana was completely obsessed with me.

She truly wasn't that bad. I could've grown to like her, but at that time, I couldn't let anyone get close to me, so I had be proactive. Tatiana was mortified and hasn't spoken to me since. Gabriel has never forgiven me.

Now, I didn't like Lightworm threatening me, or my sister. I lowered my head and growled in his ear, "If you so much as look at her again, I will be sure you are expelled and go nowhere in life. Do you understand?" I backed up to look into his eyes. He looked pissed off.

"Whatever," Gabriel shrugged and rolled his eyes, "Why would I be interested in a prepubescent child?" With that he glanced uncaringly at Cecily, gave a cruel laugh, and moved up in line. I saw Gideon arguing with his brother, presumably about apologizing to Cecily. I scowled after him, but didn't do anything. Cecily looked like she wanted to cry, but she stepped after Gabriel.

"Who said you could have me, you constipated dickwad!" Gabriel turned and looked like he wanted to laugh. Cecily was raising her hand, as if to slap him. I grabbed her and pulled her back. She didn't need to be suspended before the school year even started.

"Cecily, don't pay attention to what he says. He is an asshole, and you are miles out of his league. Now, go and get your schedule." Cecily nodded and scurried off. She still looked angry, but there was a twinge of hurt in her expression. I hope she didn't take what that wanker said to heart. I turned and was confronted with Jem.

"Why must you always start things with Gabriel?" Jem groaned.

"Because he is a spoiled rotten little twat that deserves to have a miserable life. That is why, James." I walked to the front of the line, told the woman my name, and got my schedule. Jem followed shortly after me.

The rest of the day was boring. I did nothing in any of my classes, but get lectures about course descriptions and syllabi. They were always the same, so I didn't bother paying attention. I read  _Valtech_  all day. I only had three classes with Jem, and those were economics, AP literature, and physical education. Jem was a year ahead in math, so instead of taking my Calculus, he was taking AP Trigonometry. Instead of taking my Anatomy, he took AP physiology. While I am taking AP French 3, he is taking AP German. For my elective I am taking creative writing. He is taking psychology. Sometimes, I am annoyed by Jem's intelligence. If he wasn't so damn smart, we would have every class together, and I wouldn't be bored out of my mind.

At lunch, Jem and I went to our regular table outside. Sophie came along a few minutes later. Jessamine sat away from us with some of her mates. High school was nothing like people describe it in books and television. I sometimes wonder if authors have ever been to school. Instead of cliques of popular people, jocks, nerds, etc., there were just free roaming students. There were clubs, sure, and people tended to make friends with people in those clubs, but really there were no social borders. If people wanted to be loners, they could, but they could also have friends that liked drama, that were on sports teams, and that were on the debate team. There were some people that had a lot of friends or were well known by the school. You could call them popular, but usually the popular people weren't bitchy girls or assholes. They were just candid and could make friends easily. I was "popular" but not for good reasons. I was known for my looks and for my attitude. Jem was popular for being candid. Jessamine was popular for bitchiness and beauty. Sophie was popular by association, and now Cecily, too. Gossip is ever so prominent in the social groups, though. That is one thing that never changes.

Apparently, it was a known rumor that I was a womanizer. I had snogged with strangers before, and I did flirt, but I never went out with girls that I wasn't truly interested in. That meant I never went out on dates. None of the girls ever captivate me, and I don't want to hurt them. So, I wouldn't call myself a womanizer. A lot of the time, girls throw themselves at me. They ask me out, and I decline. They smirk at me in the hallway, and I ignore them. If I wasn't built like I am, or if I didn't look the way I did, they wouldn't give one shit about me, so I return the feelings.

After school, we all went home. Tryouts for various things weren't until later in the week. The first football practice of the season, actual football, not the American crap, wasn't until Wednesday after tryouts. In the car, Jessamine and Cecily were discussing their days. Cecily hadn't needed help that day. She had gotten along fine on her own. She made a number of friends, and of course, the boys took a liking to her. I would have to make it very clear that I was her brother. Sophie wasn't speaking, but she was smiling at her phone, texting. I looked behind and saw she was talking to Gideon. I had no problem with Gideon. I actually kind of respected him. I knew he wouldn't hurt Sophie. Jem was busy looking at the road. We were on our street now.

Jem pulled up to the driveway and we all got out. The front door was locked and none of us felt like taking out a house key, so I knocked. I heard some shuffling around and then finally the door opened. I was met with unfamiliar, but beautiful and entrancing, grey eyes. I noticed a waterfall of wavy brown hair, very pale skin, and a tall and thin body, but I couldn't look away from the eyes. They told so many stories, and they looked as if they could see right through me. I heard from somewhere Jessamine groan, "Oh god." And I heard Sophie say "What the hell?" Cecily questioned who the person was. I didn't care who she was. I could see the worry and panic in her eyes. Her mouth moved, calling out for Henry.

The girl looked away, obviously uncomfortable under my gaze. Jem nudged me, noticing my stare. Suddenly, Henry appeared at the door. He looked flustered and unsure of himself.

"I didn't expect you kids to be home so soon!" Henry exclaimed. The girl stepped back farther into the house. We all went inside and gathered around the kitchen table.

"Who is that girl?" I questioned.

"Oh, well," Henry looked behind him at the girl, "That is Tessa,"  _Tess,"_  She is going to be your new foster sister."  _Oh. My. God._


	6. Less Numb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just with a look, he made me feel more alive. I felt less numb.

Tessa

It all started with laundry. Oh, why do I bother with hygiene? If I were a little boy, I would have a silver lining in this situation; I'd have a reason to not be clean ever again. I could say it has scarred me for life. Personal hygiene has ruined my life. Unfortunately, I'm not a little boy and I rather like being clean. Sorry, I digress.

I went to the lobby to find anyone to lead me to a Laundromat. The first person I ran into was Miranda. She was in the hallway outside my brother's apartment. I was looking down as I walked and almost hit her with my bag of laundry. I told her my goal and she seemed to avoid all of my questions other than where the dark sisters were. She said she would take me to them. I agreed and followed her.

We walked down the stairs to the lobby. She led me to a corridor, which I hadn't noticed before. It was humid and hot. My fresh clothes started to get moist immediately. We walked to the end of the hall to a pair of double doors. Miranda opened the door, and I reluctantly stepped inside. The inside of the room was horrible. It was at least 20 degrees hotter than the hallway, and I swear I could see clouds forming on the ceiling from all of the moisture in the room condensing. There was a large mahogany desk with two chairs behind it. A globe was on top of the desk, along with stacks of papers. There were two plush chairs in front of the desk, and benches around the room.

The Dark Sisters were sitting in the chairs behind the desk cackling about something. They hushed when they saw me. I turned and saw Miranda closing the door behind her. I almost cried out, terrified of suffocating from the lack of fresh air.

"Miranda, you may be excused," Mrs. Black said.

Miranda opened the door and I tried to breathe in as much of the cooler air coming in through the door. Then the door closed. I turned back to the sisters.

"Theresa, what brings you here?" Mrs. Dark asked me. She didn't sound pleased that I was there. I guess I had interrupted quality sister bonding time.

"Oh, well. I'm sorry for interrupting, but I was wondering if you could direct me to the nearest Laundromat." I said this softly. I didn't want to seem demanding. They gave me the vibe that matrons from the 19th century would. Total anti-feminists. Ladies should speak only when they're spoken to; ladies should be poised and proper; ladies should look nice for men; ladies should respect their elders; ladies should appease men; ladies should kneel before everyone and not stand up for themselves; blah blah blah.

"Theresa, speak with more confidence. I couldn't hear anything you just said," Mrs. Black spoke up again. I repeated my statement. Something flashed in Mrs. Black's eyes. It was almost humor, but eviler.

"Oh dear, that won't work sister," Mrs. Black drawled and smiled at her sister.

"No, sister. That won't work at all." Mrs. Dark smiled back. The smile was wide, showing off her yellowing teeth. Some were missing. It was nauseating.

"Excuse me? I just want to do laundry. What about that won't work?" I was extremely confused, and the way they looked at each other was a bit terrifying.

"Well, Theresa, we must keep you here, under our watch. Otherwise, someone might snatch you up and take all of the credit! We wouldn't want that now, would we? You'll have to stay on the premises." Mrs. Black spoke condescendingly, like she was explaining this to a lost toddler. I was not a toddler, but I was certainly lost.

"What do you mean? You can't keep me here! I want to see London. You can't treat me like an object. I am a human being with rights, and I demand to put them into use." I was infuriated. How dare they treat me like property?

"Theresa Gray," Mrs. Dark sounded angry, "Do not speak to us that way. If you do again, we will teach you some respect." She had gotten closer to me. I thought she was going to slap me.

Instead, she snapped her fingers and called Miranda back into the room, "Miranda, take Ms. Gray back to her apartment immediately. And take the trash bag. She will be able to do laundry when she is with the Magister." I was so confused. I was being treated like a prisoner. I didn't like being trapped. I started feeling like I was suffocating. That's when I went into fight or flight mode. I seemed to choose both, not one or the other.

I immediately looked around for an escape route. The door was now open. I remembered how to get to the garage. There was also a front door to the building, but if I recalled correctly, when we drove by the front, the doors were boarded up.

I lunged for the globe and pushed Mrs. Dark over, who fell against her sister onto the floor. Miranda grabbed onto my arm, but I wrenched out of her grip and grabbed the globe. I swung as hard as I could into her chest. I wasn't a murderer. I didn't want to kill the girl. I dropped the globe onto the pile of sisters and ran out of the room as a fast as I could. I ran down the hallway, into the lobby, into the corridor leading to the garage, and then through the garage to the gate. It was so rusted I could break pieces of the gate off. I made a hole large enough for me to get through, and then I bolted. I looked behind me to see if anyone was on my tail. No one was, so I turned back to run, but ran directly into the front of a car that had just hit its breaks. It was on the road in front of the garage. I almost died of relief. I ran to the driver's side and knocked. They rolled down their window, while I looked around frantically.

"Please, you have to help me! I-" I looked at the driver only to see bugging-out eyes and pasty hair. It was the dark sister's driver.

* * *

Mrs. Dark tightened my handcuff. It was cutting off my circulation. The rivets were digging into my flesh and my bone. I should've just run, but it was too late for that. The driver brought me right back to the Dark Sisters, who brought me back to my room. They shoved me into my bedroom and handcuffed me to my iron bed. The pain in my wrist was almost unbearable. I wanted to cry, to relive the pain. I wanted to sob for myself, for my brother, for my aunt, for my parents, hell, even for the starving children in Africa, for the poor animals in kill shelters, for the slow but sure destruction of our precious planet, but I wouldn't give the sisters the satisfaction.

"You stupid girl. You almost cost us our lives. If you ever try anything like that again, we will whip you bloody," Mrs. Dark continued to talk about punishing me in different ways, each one worse than the previous. Mrs. Black watched from the door.

"Now, sister, you know the magister wants Theresa unharmed."

I couldn't stand the mystery anymore, "Who the fuck is the Magister?" I practically screamed. I realized too late that it was not the time to curse, or speak out of place. Mrs. Dark's hand whipped at my face with lighting speed. She hit me so hard I was thrown back against the iron headboard. My cheek screamed in pain, like a thousand bees had stung my cheeks. She had used her nails to claw me. I could feel fresh blood trickling from the scratches. At least I didn't want to cry anymore.

"Never speak of the Magister that way. He is a great man. You will be lucky to be his." Mrs. Dark stepped away from me and called Miranda in.

"Miranda, watch Ms. Gray. We have to deal with her brother."

"Nate? What do you mean? Where is he?" The sisters already left, but I yelled after them as loud as I could. They didn't respond. I relaxed against the bed and sighed a shaky breath. There was now blood on the pillow. Drops were falling from my cheek at a steady rate. It looked like I was crying blood.

Miranda stood next to the door and stared at me. I figured I could get something out of her, "'Miranda, who is the magister?"

The girl looked around uncomfortably before she finally answered, "He is a great man."

I was slightly annoyed by her response, " I was already told that, but what does he want with me?"

"He wants your hand," Miranda responded shortly and then was silent. I asked her what she meant. Did he want my literal hand, or my hand in marriage? I figured it was the latter. She wouldn't speak to me, so I gave up and stared at the ceiling, reveling in my pain.

* * *

I don't know how long I lied there. I could've fallen asleep, but time ran together. I couldn't tell if it had been five minutes or 15 hours. All know is that when I first lied down, it was dark, and when I heard the noise it was bright out. One minute I was lying there, and the second, I was shaken out of bed by an earth-shaking  _BOOM_. It rattled the entire building. Miranda was already exiting by the time I collected my thoughts. I saw her skirts rush out the door after her. I pulled at my restraint, with no luck. I noticed that, like the gate, the bed was rusted. If I could break the bar off, I could be free.

I began pulling. I saw flecks of rust fall off and land around and on me. The bed shook. The room shook. The rivets cut my flesh and my wrist bled. Red poured down my arms and onto the bed, tinting my unsullied skin a deep scarlet. I pulled so hard I could feel my wrist shattering. With one last pull, with all my might, I tore the bar free from the bed. My arm flew backwards, dragging me with it. I landed on the dirty carpet. The handcuff had twisted around when I was pulling. My wrist was shredded, and no doubt broken, but I was free. I ignored the sharp, blinding, continuous pain, and got to my feet. I ran down the hall and the stairs and caught myself at the entryway to the lobby. I peaked around the wall. There were police everywhere. I didn't see the sisters, Miranda, or the driver.

One officer noticed me. My first instinct was to run, but that would've been incriminating. He also had a gun. My legs against a gun would be no competition. I decided to stay where I was. I shrunk against the wall. The officer came through the entryway and stood in front of me. He had bright red hair, the color of fall leaves in New York, and nice brown eyes. He didn't appear to be hostile towards me, so I guess he noticed my age. He looked down at my wrist and then at my face. I didn't know what to do. Was I in trouble? Would I be arrested? How does England's judiciary system work?

"I didn't do anything. I- I don't know what's going on. Please. I just moved here. They- they kept me here and- please don't arrest me," I rambled on about my innocence. The officer looked at me with concern in his eyes. He tried to calm me. He waved his hand to signal me to stop.

"Don't worry, dear. Are you Theresa Gray?" The officer's eyes creased in worry.

"Yes, I am. How did you know I would be-" I flinched as wrist pulsed, I let out a whimper against my will.

"Oh dear, let's get you to the ambulance. I am Officer Branwell, Theresa. You're safe now." He gently led me into the lobby and out the now broken open doors, to the ambulance.

"Tessa," I murmured.

"What, sweetie?"

"Please, call me Tessa," I said a little louder, "How did you know I would be here?" I asked again as I was sat in the ambulance.

"There was an anonymous tip." Officer Branwell stood in front of me while the medics tended to me, "Tessa, tell me, do you have any family we can contact about you? Anyone you can go to?"

"No, I-" I broke off as I thought about Nate. The sisters said they had to deal with in. It was well past nightfall now. It was the next day, around twelve, from what I could tell. Something was wrong. I gasped, "My brother. I came to England to live with him. He's gone. The sisters said they were going to do something to him. I know something is wrong. You have to find him!" Nate was all I had left and now he was gone.

"Tessa, calm down. We will try to find your brother. In the meantime, you need a place to stay," I nodded understandingly, "And you have no family? Not even in the US?" I shook my head, "Okay, have you got British citizenship?" I nodded "We are going to have to put you in the foster system here, it is the process." Officer Branwell stopped and thought for a minute. He was having an inner debate, I could tell. He spoke up again, "Now, my wife might kill me, but we foster children. You seem like a good girl. If you would like, you can stay with us, or wait to be given a foster family, I will leave it up to you."

Oh my god. I could barely breathe. How could this be happening to me? Normalcy is so underrated.

"But, what about my brother? What about Nate?" I couldn't abandon my brother.

"You can't worry about your brother right now. We will try and find him. One child we foster lost his sister and we found her for him. We will do whatever we can. What you need to focus on is yourself. You've been through a bad experience and need to be in a loving environment. I think my wife and I could give that to you." I really had no other option. Officer Branwell seemed like a good person. I didn't get the pedophile vibe from him. He said he'd try and get Nate, and he seemed sincere. I nodded my head as acceptance.

"Okay, Tessa. Did you have belongings with you?" I nodded and told him where they were. He told me they would get them and bring them to his home later. I hadn't noticed, but the medics had wrapped my wrist and gauzed my cheek. How I got to Henry's house blurred together. He led me to his car. I sat in the passenger seat. I remember saying something about my shoulder bag and how many trunks I said. I said how some things were unpacked already and how I needed to get them. He said that we could go back later to make sure the police didn't take anything. I was a tad delirious. The medics must've given me pain medicine without me noticing. The pain in my wrist had gone down from volcanic explosion to a dull throb. I fell asleep for the rest of the ride. When I woke up, we were in front of his house. I noticed it was huge. I was amazed by the size. Officer Branwell led me inside and asked if I was hungry or thirsty. I said no. He led me to a room that he said would be mine. It was painted blue, had wood furniture, and white accents. I noticed a huge bookshelf. I thanked Officer Branwell. He said to call him Henry. I thanked Henry. He said if I needed anything, then to call him. He left, and I fell asleep.

* * *

I woke up at 14:30. I was disoriented and confused, until I recalled the events that had taken place. I still didn't completely understand what happened. Why were the police involved? I mean, I was glad that they were. I thought I was going to be sold off to be a sex slave for a while.

I got off of the bed and walked into the hall. The house was much larger on the inside than it appeared on the outside. I had no idea where I was. I tried different hallways, but each time got more lost. I must've been walking around for half an hour. I called for Henry, but he didn't come. I guess he was gone, like my brother was. Thinking of Nate made me more worried, and utterly depressed. There was a loud pounding coming from somewhere in the house; a knock on the door.

I followed the resounding echo from the door. It led me to stairs. I went down them. There was another knock. I thought that it might be Henry. I tried to calm down my bed head and then I opened the door, but I wasn't met with brown eyes and red hair. Instead I saw pools of crystal blue and dark black hair- blacker than space. I subconsciously noticed four other people. I didn't realize I was staring at the boy until I realized he was staring at me. My face flushed and I looked away. I didn't know what to do with all of these strangers, so I called out for Henry and hoped he would respond. Luckily, he did. He ran out from somewhere in the house. I stepped back into the house and stole glances at the boy. The kids came inside and walked into the kitchen. They exchanged some words that I wasn't listening to. I was focusing on the blue-eyed boy. He made me forget about my problems. I could see passed his exterior and into his past. Just with a look, he made me feel more alive. I felt less numb.

* * *

 


	7. Star Crossed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Great, just what I need, a stranger in my house.

-Henry-

"Henry!"

I was in my lab when I heard my name being shouted. It was Tessa. She sounded nervous. Her voice cracked.

See, when I asked Charlotte if I could have a lab in the house, being the kind, loving wife she is, she said yes. I know, despite her saying yes, that she didn't always enjoy my inventing. So, I decided the best place for my lab would be out of sight, and therefore out of Charlotte's mind. I built it in the basement.

There are many good things about having my lab in the basement. The kids didn't interrupt me when they were younger, because they thought it was haunted. The basement was huge, so I could test things out and have plenty of room to build. It was cement, so the frequent fires I set off weren't going to catch. The walls were thick, so my ruckus wouldn't bother anyone in the house, and vice versa.

Although helpful at times, the thickness of the walls was now a problem. If not for the alarm system, that was on the basement wall and lit up when the front door was opened, signaling that someone was here, I wouldn't have come out of my lab for hours. Now, there were only four possibilities. One was that Tessa was up and went outside and left, but given her current state, it was unlikely. The second was that we were being robbed, but only a moron would rob a house with a police car in front of it. The third was that Charlotte actually came home right after school, without staying for hours to do extra work. Ha. That's funny. The fourth was that school was over and the kids are home.  _Ding ding ding, we have a winner!_

I dropped my screwdriver and ran up the stairs. The second I threw open the door I heard my name. Crap, I was too late. I was a horrible person. Oh no. I just subjected poor Tessa to horrible mortification. Those kids could be vicious sometimes. They're probably interrogating her.  _Oh, no, no, no, no, no_. I should've watched the time. But they're never home right after school the first week! They have try-outs and friends and clubs. Don't those kids have lives?

I ran into the front room. Tessa was there, in front of the open door. The five kids were all there, with various expressions on their face. As I neared the door, I saw that Jessamine looked angry. She was intuitive. I think she had a suspicion that we were going to foster Tessa. Jessamine felt threatened by other girls. She acted that way when we adopted Sophie, and then Cecily. She acted confident, but she was scared of being and Cecily both looked confused. They didn't understand what was happening or why Tessa was there. They thought she was a stranger in their home. Jem, for whatever reason, appeared oppressed. Jem was almost never oppressed. Only sometimes, when it came to Will.

Will was the strangest. He seemed awed. I had never seen him look that way. Sometimes, when he was reading, he had an expression close to his current one. What was even weirder was that he was staring at Tessa. I had seen Will with girls before, and this was definitely different. That is why I had suggested him being gay. Whenever he was with girls, he seemed detached and uninterested. But, now seeing how he looked at Tessa, I got the feeling I was wrong. I was next to Tessa now. She was looking at Will back. Crap. Not good. Foster siblings. Is that legal? We never adopt the kids. They aren't actual siblings.  _Stop it, Henry. This can't happen._

Tessa shrunk back behind me as I led the kids into the kitchen.

* * *

-Jem-

She was beautiful. I had never seen a girl so beautiful. I thought I could stare at her forever. It took a few seconds for me to see past her eyes and hair. I saw her face was bandaged. Her arm that was hanging at her side was wrapped. She had been hurt. I had never felt so much pity and pain for someone I had never talked to before. I looked back to her eyes.  _Oh goodness, she's staring at me_.

The pools of grey were sucking me in, but they seemed unfocused. They weren't quite staring at me, but a little in front of me. She was staring at Will, I realized.

I was used to that, of course. Although, I appeared exotic and wasn't unattractive, I always did have that "terminally ill" look I could never shake. Whenever I was with Will, people always noticed  _him_. They always asked  _him_  out. They always wanted to get to know  _him_. He always stood out and was noticed. I tended to fade into the sky, like a misty cloud.

I didn't blame Will, of course. He was my brother. He didn't ask for the attention, and he certainly didn't want it. He always would joke that his sensationally good looks were a curse. An added bonus to his supposed original curse. I sometimes was jealous of Will. I tried to stop it. I always tried to put others first, but it was a basic human emotion. I was envious of him. His looks, the attention he got, him not dying (physically at least). I knew about his walls and his pain. I knew he didn't want to have to push people away. I tried to tell him that everything would be fine. I explained to him that he wasn't cursed, that what happened to Ella wasn't his fault. He never listened. He just kept torturing himself, and by that, torturing me.

I looked at Will, and almost chocked.  _What?_

Will was staring back at the girl. Will never showed feelings like he was then. I could see his walls crumbling, and just with a look from that girl. It took years for me to gain his complete trust!

I was being a hypocrite. When I looked at her, I felt like I was flying. But, she's noticed Will, and Will's noticed her. I must've been kidding myself. She would never be interested in me.

Why was I even saying this? I don't know who she is!

She looked away from Will. She blushed. She called out for Henry. Will seemed dazed. I nudged him as a form of question, but he seemed to think of it in a joking way. I don't think Will realized what he just felt. Oh, the poor boy. I immediately pushed down my feelings for the strange girl. I saw Will. I knew that this girl could change him.

Henry appeared. He was flustered. He seemed hesitant to tell us who she was.

He brought us into the kitchen. And he explained. My heart shattered, and I don't know for whom- myself, or Will.

* * *

~~~~Jessamine~~~~

I did not deserve this. I work hard to look how I do. I work hard to protect my reputation. I have to be pretty and popular (some call it bitchy, but to each his own) so that people won't associate me with filthy orphans. No one has, so I choose to believe it's because my way is effective.

But now, I see this girl. She is gorgeous, even with her face bandaged and her hair messed up. Her face was so perfect. She was wearing no make up. No blemishes. Her eyebrows were perfect, and I bet she didn't even pluck. She had long, dark lashes shading her eyes. And oh, her eyes. They were beautiful. I had never seen eyes so mercurial. And she was so tall! It wasn't fair. I fucking hated her.

When I wake up, my hair is a frizzy mess. I have to put on concealer and foundation and bronzer and mascara and eye shadow and eyeliner and countless other things. I have to style my hair. I wear heels to be close to her height. I was skinnier than her, but if she were any skinnier, it would look unhealthy. I think she just had a larger bone structure than me. She was absolutely perfect, and I could tell she didn't even know it.

Jem and Will were staring- no, ogling at her. The girl was staring back at Will. Jem snapped out of it first, saw that the girl was staring at Will, and then got a terribly sad look on his face. I felt so bad for the poor guy.

The girl seemed to notice she was staring, so she looked away and blushed, but Will shamelessly continued, oblivious to his friend's sadness. Oh, the things love could do.

She called out for Henry.  _Crap_. This girl couldn't be more than 16, the same age as me. That is just about the right age for Henry and Charlotte to foster children. Oh, no. I didn't want this bitch living with me. I would have to be kind to her. I could not do that. I wanted to rip her hair out just staring at her. I couldn't handle this. Please, God, kill me.

* * *

Sophie

Today was so great, and I didn't think days were great often. They were almost never good. But, today…

Gideon. I had had a crush on him since I had moved in with the Branwells. The Lightwoods were over all the time to hang out. The first time I saw Gideon, I had hid. I thought he was amazing immediately, and that was scary. I was scared of men, and I didn't want to put my trust in any guy. Gideon would've thought I was ugly, anyway.

Of course, just my luck, Gideon ran into my room. He was less then two years older than me. I think he was hiding from his brother, or someone. Boys being boys. He had never seen me before, but had heard of me. He said my name, and then introduced himself. I could only nod. I was so scared. I was alone in my room, with an older boy. The confusing part was that he didn't look at my scar once. Back then the scar was fresh and red. It stood out a lot.

He stared into my eyes the whole time. He registered my terror and apologized profusely, and then he left. I had never met a boy as kind as him, except maybe Jem.

Every other encounter I have had with Gideon was brief, and I was always awkward. He has tried to talk to me, but I always got nervous and opted out. I wanted to talk to him so badly, but I didn't know how.

I decided this year that I needed to talk to him. This was his last year at the institute, and then he would go to college. I would regret not talking to him for the rest of my life, or until he'd come back to London.

After I got my schedule, I went to get my books. I was behind him in the line. I almost got up the courage to talk to him when he turned around. He looked surprised.

"Oh, Sophie! Hello. How was your morning?" he smiled at me.

I looked down to hide my blush, "Hi, Gideon. It was... well, it was hectic, as usual. You know, with Will and all. And yours?"

"Well, you know Gabriel, so the same. But, you always brighten my day." Oh goodness. Why did he say that?

"Please, that was so cheesy!" I faked a laugh. I was actually burning up inside.

"It may be cheesy, but 100 percent true." Gideon flashed a smile at me. By the angel he was adorable. I couldn't help but smile. I pushed my hair behind my ear, only to promptly put it back after realizing I was exposing my scar.

Something flashed across Gideon's face. It was something I had never seen before. It wasn't horror, or embarrassment. It was saddness.

"You shouldn't do that, you know." Gideon looked away from me.

My head snapped up, "Do what?"

He looked back at me and slowly raised his hand to push my hair behind my ear, "Feel ashamed of something that makes you who you are."

I surprisingly let him rest the hair behind my ear. I scoffed and mumbled, "More like something that makes me hideous." I looked down, embarrassed again.

Gideon leaned in to my ear and whispered, "Sophie, you are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen." I looked up to see Gideon staring at me. I couldn't believe he said that. I couldn't believe he believed that, but something about how he said it was sincere. No one has ever called me beautiful and meant it. I didn't believe Cecily or Jessamine or Charlotte. But, God, I wanted to believe Gideon was telling the truth so very badly.

"You don't mean that," I whispered back and moved up in line.

"Hey, Sophie!" Gideon jogged to catch up with me, "Do you think I could get your number? Just in case I want to speak to you when we're not in line to get textbooks."

I thought about this. I wanted to put myself out there. I wasn't backing down

"Sure, Gideon." I wrote down my number on his hand and then got my textbooks.

* * *

He first messaged me when I was in second period. Mr. Bobino was explaining something about what we will be learning this semester. I was so very bored. And my phone buzzed.

_Hello, my darling Sophie. It is Gideon._

God, I blushed so hard. I almost died in history class. We continued talking throughout the day. He sat with Will, Jem, and I during lunch. We texted on my way home from school.

Today was so good, and then Will opened the door.

_Who the hell is that?_

* * *

-Cecily-

I never, ever wanted to go back to the institute. On our way home, I just wanted to break into tears, but I talked to Jessamine anyway and made up some bull crap about me having a fine day. During the day, people tried to talk to me, and I acted like myself, like I wasn't hating my life.

When I first saw Gabriel, I thought I was in love. The, he opened his cocksucker mouth and ruined it. The little shit had the audacity to call me prepubescent. I was more mature than the fucker would ever be. On the inside, I was kind of heartbroken. Which is ridiculous, I had just met the guy. And he was a total assbutt. But still, I saw it in his eyes. I could tell he saw me. I could tell he could felt  _something_. If I have one skill, it's reading people. And he liked me.

Then, he went and ruined everything! God damn, I'm such an idiot.

I saw Gabriel in the halls a few times. He ignored me.

When Jem parked, I practically flew out of the car. I wanted to go to my room and sleep. Forever. I felt defeated and confused and I couldn't handle anything else. When the door opened, I almost ran directly into the stranger. Great, just what I needed, a stranger in my house.

* * *


	8. Meet You Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He tried to hide it, I could tell; but in those moments when I was looking at his eyes, he let himself leak through, and I think I might want to see him again.

* * *

I don't think I had ever been in a more awkward situation in my entire life. And I am an extremely awkward person!

The silver haired guy was giving me the saddest look I could imagine. The blonde girl looked like she wanted to slit my wrists, and the black haired girl would hand her the razor. The only two normal people were the blue eyed boy and the girl who had the scarred face. He looked indifferent and she looked kind of confused, like she didn't know how to feel about my presence. I wished I had never woken up.

After a few more seconds of stare-downs, Henry cleared his throat and clapped his hands together, "Well, I believe introductions are in order. This," Henry pointed to the blonde girl, "is Jessamine. She is 16, like you." Before, I hadn't realized how drop dead gorgeous she was. Her blonde hair and chocolate eyes were such a beautiful combination. She was shorter than me, but she was model thin and had a defined bone structure in her face. She was perfectly proportioned and I was so jealous of her looks. I was also jealous of my jealousy. People were never jealous of me, plain Tessa.

I smiled at her, but she didn't return it. She held her head up higher, and made a little "Humph" noise. Wow. What a bitch. She's gorgeous and she knows it. I couldn't help but strongly dislike her. I had been taught not to judge, but it seemed harder than usual right now.

Henry moved on to the girl next to Jessamine. She had black hair and blue eyes, just like the other boy. She must have been the sister that Henry and Charlotte found for the other kid they fostered, the blue eyed boy. I could tell that she had soft features. If she had a pleasant expression on her face, she would look sweet and innocent, and also god damned beautiful. She was younger than me, about a year younger.

"This is Cecily. She is 15." She didn't look angry anymore, just exhausted; I empathized. She raised her hand at me, in an attempt at a wave. She barely glanced at me. I smiled back at her. Henry turned his gaze to the brown haired girl with the scar.

I was kind of jealous of her, too. She had a scar, yes, but it didn't mangle her face, like it would mine or even Jessamine or Cecily's. It seemed to fit her face perfectly, like she was born with it, like it made her whole. Her face was pretty without it, but she was stunning with it. I could tell she wasn't comfortable with me looking at her. She was ashamed of her scar, which was terribly sad.

"Tessa, this is Sophie. She is 16, too." Henry moved to the silver boy. Seriously, everything about him was silver. His hair, his eyes, even his skin tone had a silvery tone. He looked ill. His expression wasn't ill, but just his body language and how pail he was spoke of illness.

"This is James, or Jem. He is 17, almost 18."

Jem smiled at me, and was the first to actually speak, "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Tessa." James lightly took my hand and brought it to his lips, and then dropped it. I blushed.

"It is very nice to meet you. Should I call you Jem or James?" I smiled at him politely.

"Oh Jem, yes. I find James to be too formal."

"Really?" My smile grew, "I find Theresa to be too formal, also."

"Yes, well, if you need help getting around here, feel free to ask-" The black haired boy next to him scoffed.

"James, stop being such a brownnoser. I'm sure Tessa can make it here fine by herself. We have all had to. What makes her any different?"

"Well, William, we all had help offered to us. If I recall correctly, you are the only one here who has declined the help, so I am offering her the same kindness. Not all of us are as independent as you seem to be."

"Tessa," Henry interrupted, "this is William, or Will. He is 17. Don't let him bother you, he will try to often."

"Henry, I don't try to, it just happens. It's like how Jem doesn't try to be polite, it just happens. It's like how Jessamine doesn't try to be a whore- well, I guess she does indirectly try to be a whore, but you get my point."

I was stunned into silence. They people around me seemed to react for only a second, before brushing the comment off. The air in the room seemed to become colder and more sullen. I didn't know how to continue the conversation, so I switched the subject.

"So, uh, Henry, I was wondering when we would be able to go and get my stuff?"

"Oh, right, we should do that immediately. I think we should bring some of the others to help, though. Any volunteers?" Jem raised his hand.

"I'll go. You'll probably need my car space anyway. Will will, too."

"Woah, hey. This is not the Hunger Games. I did not volunteer." Will waved his hands in protest.

"Fine, then I am picking your name out of the bowl. You are going, Will, even if I have to fight you to the death first." Will rolled his eyes, but didn't argue any longer.

"Okay, whatever. I will ride with Jem in his car. We will follow your lead. Let's go." Will walked back into the front room. I followed, forgetting that I looked like I had gotten thrown off of a moving train.

Will was waiting at the front door. He opened it, put his arms in front of him, and bowed his head, "After you, m'lady." He said sarcastically.

I didn't respond, but walked out to Henry's car and waited. God, how could someone look like an angel, but act like a demon? Will was irritating, but I didn't believe that that was all that was there. I read it in his eyes. He had pain and sadness and love behind his cruel statements. He tried to hide it, I could tell; but in those moments when I was looking at his eyes, he let himself leak through, and I think I might want to see him again.


	9. Welcome Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Any time, Tess.

It was strange seeing the apartment building when it wasn't night or when I wasn't delirious. It was large, larger than most buildings around it. It was at least five or six stories high. It was a Victorian style building that was once beautiful, but it had gone to ruins. People had obviously added on to it since the Victorian era, though. They had carved out a parking garage under it, probably in the 1950s or 1960s.

The walls were once pure, red, brick, but now were chipped and sullied with age and soot. The roof was falling apart. There were holes in the chimneys and shingles were falling off. The building, in its prime, might've reminded me of the Grimmauld House from  _Order of the Phoenix_. The front door was now smashed in. It was a once-nice wooden door that was mildewed from water damage. It probably didn't take much to bash it. Most of the windows were boarded up. Only a few let light in, and I could guess that the few were in Nate's apartment.

 _Maybe Nate came back after the police were gone._ I knew this was unlikely, but I couldn't help but throw open the car door when it barely stopped moving, sprinting through the door and lobby, and hurtling myself up the stairs and to our apartment- I mean, um, flat. The door was open already as I bolted in. I looked in the kitchen and the bathroom. I looked in the living room and then Nate's room and my room. I looked for a sign that he had been here. I looked for proof he was safe. There was none. The place was just how I had left it. I sank down onto my bed. The headboard was still broken and my laundry and trunks were all still there. I grabbed one of Nate's shirts and held it to my body and twiddled my necklace in my fingers. I closed my eyes and felt the ridges and curves of the wings. I felt the round head and the slope of the body. I pulled at the chain. I held it to my ear to hear the familiar ticking of the mechanics I knew were in there. It was my clockwork angel. Nate gave it to me. It was my mother's before mine. He found it in her jewelry chest after she passed. I was only three.

Years later, when I was nine, he gave it to me. He said mom always wore it. She had said it protected her. I thought it was fitting that she wasn't wearing it when her and dad got into the car accident.

I haven't taken the necklace off since. I always wore it, even when it got tangled in my unruly hair. It now served as comfort. It reminded me of my kind brother. It reminded me of my parents, whom are now just fictional characters I have made them out to be in my head. I imagined my mother was kind and social. She was talented in meeting people and being the life of the party. She was beautiful and loving.

My father was more like me. He loved reading. He was quiet and intelligent. He cooked dinner for our family and read to me every night before I went to sleep. He loved us so much.

I could feel tears sting my closed eyes. I wouldn't cry. I pinched my arm and tried to come back to reality.

_I am here to get my things with Henry, Jem, and Will._

Right, they were going to be here any minute. I opened my eyes and sat up. I ended up face to face with a boy. I screamed and kicked out. I hit something; I hit something _hard_. I realized too late that I knew this person. This person was supposed to be good.

It was Will. And I kicked him in his hand. Very hard. It's not like it's my fault! He snuck up on _me_!

Will groaned and held up his hand. It was bleeding. I looked nervously to his face.

"You cut me," he said. Oh god I loved his accent. I hadn't paid attention to it before; I was busy processing his cruel words. But it was prefect and melodious. I caressed words and sung songs. He wasn't looking at me, but was investigating his hand, "It might be fatal."

He looked at me then. I tried not to laugh at his tone, so I held my hand up to my mouth. He glared at me, but it somehow looked playful.

"My deepest and most sincere apologize, William." I bowed my head.

"I will forgive you, for now. This by no means lets you off the hook," Will removed his eyes from mine and looked around the room, "What a dump."

It was a dump, but he didn't know how much effort Nate had put into it, "It is a capital mistake to theorize before you have all the evidence-"

"It biases the judgment. Don't quote Doyle at me. Although, I must say, I am surprised you have read  _A Study in Scarlet_." Will returned his eyes to me, looking at me critically. I crossed my arms and raised my eyebrows.

"I must say, I thought the same about you. But, not only have I read  _A Study in Scarlet_ , but also all of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's  _The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes_ novels and most of the stories. I suppose you are proud of yourself reading  _the Hunger Games_  trilogy. Bravo." I shifted my weight and smiled at him.

"I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offences at my beck than I have thoughts to put them in, imagination to give them shape, or time to act them in," Will quoted and walked over to the other side of the room and then pivoted to face me again, "I've read  _Hamlet_ , too."

"I suppose you deserve a reward?"

"I only want your approval." He shot me a sarcastic, pleading look. I couldn't stop myself from laughing this time.

"Fine, I am impressed. I figured you would be a cocky teenaged boy, who is well aware of his looks and uses them to his advantage. A boy who doesn't care for any literature, except for pornography and maybe even food labels."

"I am shocked, Miss Gray! Why ever would you believe such things?" He held his hand up to his mouth to feign shock.

"Well," I said, searching through my mind palace for relevant quotes. I settled on one from  _Pride and Predjudice_ , "had you behaved in a more gentleman like manner."

"Woah, Tess, a bit too far. I didn't ask you to marry me." Will raised his hands and shook them, and took a step back. My brain barely processed that he called me brain barely processed that it liked it.

"I did not imply that. If I had, that would've implied that you are like Mr. Darcy and I am Elizabeth. Which I am not, and you are not. If the situation my quote is taking place in goes along with the quote I say, that would mean that you were Hamlet and were trying to convince me, Ophelia, to go to a convent, since you quoted  _Hamlet_. That would mean that I am Sherlock Holmes and you are John Watson."

Will nodded, "You're right, I always imagined me as more of a Sherlock Holmes and Jem as a John Watson."

"We would be great crime solvers, wouldn't we, William?"

I hadn't noticed Jem come in, even though I was facing the door. I was slightly startled.

"Oh, Jem. Hello." I smiled at him.

"Hello, Tessa. Might I ask why you ran so fast to here?" Jem returned my smile warmly, but he had questions in his eyes.

"I was… Well, it' stupid, really. I was hoping my brother would be here." I looked at the floor, embarrassed.

Will stepped closer to Jem and me, "Tessa, that isn't stupid. You love your brother. If I was missing Cecily, and I believed she would be here, I would've done the same." Will sounded caring.

I looked up and met Jem's eyes. There was a hint of sadness and surprise as I saw him look from Will to me, but it quickly faded.

"Yes, it's okay, Tessa. We will try to find your brother."Jem was comforting.

"How did you know my brother was missing?" I looked from Will to Jem. I didn't remember telling them that he was missing.

Will glanced at Jem a little worriedly, "Uh, well you were there when Henry told us that you were looking for your brother."

I thought back to the conversation we had in the kitchen. For the first half of it, I hadn't been paying attention. That must've been when Henry told them.

"Oh, right. Yes, I remember." I grinned and looked away. I turned to my trunks as Henry came into the room.

"There is no one else in here, it's completely cleared. If there was anything else here, the police must've taken it as evidence. All that's here are your things, Tessa."

"Okay, and all of my stuff is here, Let me just put some things back into my trunks." I picked up my bag of laundry. I took out the comforter ad sheets and threw them into the corner. All that was left in the bag was some of Nate's clothes and my sweaty ones. I put the bag in one of my trunks. It was the one that was about four-fifths full of clothes and shoes. I shut the trunk and then grabbed my shoulder bag that was still in the corner of the room where I had left it. I checked to see if everything was accounted for. My wallet, phone, book, ipod, headphones, and sunglasses were all in my shoulder bag. I opened one trunk, which was full to the rim with books. I opened another to see that it was the same as the first. I heard someone gasp almost inaudibly behind me. I turned to see Will gaping at me. When he saw me looking, he quickly returned to his passive mask. Whatever.

The third trunk contained clothes and such. The fourth was full of books again.

"William, I think I might've just met someone with more books than yourself," Jem laughed.

"Oh, is it a problem I have this many books?" I looked at Henry, "I tried to downsize as much as possible before leaving America. I- I guess I could try downsizing more…" I mumbled the last part and looked sadly at my trunks.

"Oh no, Tessa. Don't worry. You can keep all of them. I'm just worried about how heavy they are."

"Well, someone got them up here. We can get them down. I honestly expected you to have more luggage, Tessa. This would only be a fifth of Jessamine's things, and they would all be filled with clothing, not books," said Will.

"Yes, well. I have different priorities than Jessamine, I guess."

* * *

The next hour was exhausting. Will tried to carry one of the trunks full of books by himself down the stairs. The trunk wouldn't leave the ground, but it would slide. That was a good method until he reached the stairs. The trunk tilted and then slid down the steps, bringing Will with it. It wouldn't have been funny if my trunk broke or if Will was hurt, but they were both fine, so it was laughable.

Henry agreed that that way would work, but would be more stable with at least to people bring them down the steps. Jem grabbed the other side of the first trunk and helped Will slide it the rest of the way down the stairs to the lobby. Henry and I started on the second. I wasn't very strong, but Henry was. I think Henry was doing all the work, but I tried my best. When we got to the bottom, Jem and Will were halfway down with the third trunk. Henry and I brought down the fourth and Jem and Will brought down the fifth. I was so tired and sore when we finished I had to collapse on to one of my trunks.

After catching my breath, I puffed out, "I'm sorry for being useless." I chuckled a little and then stood.

"It's okay, Tessa. You helped quite a lot actually. You balanced the trunks and stabilized them. It would've been more difficult otherwise." Henry patted me on the back and then grabbed a trunk. He carried it out to his car. Will and Jem each grabbed one and dragged it to Jem's car. I slowly dragged one to Henry's car and Henry grabbed the last one. It amazed me that they all fit.

* * *

The drive back to the Branwells was quick. I felt like I was going to fall back asleep, but I managed to stop myself. I had a light conversation with Henry, but I was really only thinking of Nate. He could be dead or being tortured. I tried to hold in my questions, but in the end, my curiosity won against my will.

"Henry, have the police gotten anything on Nate yet?"

Henry looked at me uneasily, "Tessa, I don't know if this is the time to tell you."

"Please, Henry, I have to know about my brother."

Hesitantly, Henry nodded, "Okay, I will explain, but this is a family matter, so I will tell you when we get home. Hopefully Charlotte will be home by now.

* * *

I think Charlotte almost had a heart attack. At first she thought I was one of her children's friends from school. Then she saw all of my stuff. Her face went from confusion to realization to furry, which she quickly tamed.

I was quite terrified of this woman.

She quickly viewed me and then turned her exasperated eyes to Henry.

"Charlotte, dear, this is Tessa."

Charlotte shot a tight smile at me, "Hello, Tessa. Welcome to our boarding house. I didn't know it was such, but my husband has apparently changed the status." She glared at Henry.

Henry rushed over to his wife, "Okay, let's talk over here." He pulled her into a different room.

I didn't move. What was going to happen? What if Charlotte throws me out? I'll be homeless, I'll have no school or work or house or family. I had a tiny amount of hope that these people could've been my family. I hoped I wasn't naïve to have that hope.

"She won't, you know." I whirled to see Will next to me. Jem was nowhere to be seen. I guess he went to get his siblings.

"What do you mean?"

"I could tell you were scared that Charlotte will ask you to leave, but she won't. She's a good woman. She is just stressed, and doesn't like surprises. And you are certainly a surprise."

"That's comforting, I guess. Thank you, Will."

He smiled at me. It was a real smile, "Any time, Tess."


	10. One Faithful Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please, Tess. I'm begging you. Go back to your room.

Charlotte and Henry came out of the study, no doubt going to give Tessa the "Welcome to Our Humble Mansion, We're Your Parents, You're Safe Here" speech, I snuck off to my room. My mind was having a civil war. I shut my door and sank down on my bed. I rested my head on the mattress and stretched out, having my hands on my head.

What the  _fuck_  was that?

I am never like that.

Ever.

Jesus Christ, the things that girl does to me. I'm not that nice to anyone, not even Cecily or Jem. And she was American! Aren't Americans supposed to be uncultured dimwits that watch the telly all day and night and work at farms? That may be a stereotype, but seriously, she is one of a kind. I've known this girl for two hours and I just want to give her all of my love. But it will only end up hurting her. I have to make my walls concrete and push her away.

One side of my head, the side that Jem had implanted, was calmly reasoning with the other, saying that there were no need for my walls. I could bring them down with no destruction. That it had been long enough.

The other side was rampaging. It screamed at me. It yelled that I would just hurt everything and everyone in my way. I can't have people love me because I will let them down. They'll want to protect me and end up getting hurt, and I can't do that to the people I love.

This side won.

There was a light knock on my door and it opened. I raised my head to see the person, although I already knew who it was. No one was that quiet or slight.

Jem shut the door behind him and sat on the edge of the bed next to me.

I noticed he had a grin on his face.

God damn, he knew me well. I definitely need to get my shit together.

"William, what was that?" Jem inquired.

"What was what, James?" I tried to sound as uninterested as possible, but I could hear the guilt in my voice. I knew Jem could too. I sat up on my elbows.

"Fine, I will be up front about it. Do you like Tessa? I saw the way you looked at her. I saw the way you acted around her. It' s different than I have ever seen you around anyone." Silence pervaded the room.

After a few seconds, I broke the silence with a cruel laugh, "Me? Like Tessa? Please, James. Why would I like her out of all of the girls I have my choice of? She's so…" I trailed off. I couldn't really find a word to describe Tessa, especially an ill one. But, my statement was so full of disgust, it sounded like talking about her was too horrible for me to even finish my sentence.

I looked up to James. I could read him like a book. He seemed pitiful and sad, but also angry. Great. Wait. Oh shit.

"Well, James. I think the real question here is do you like Tessa?" I smiled my so-called "evil" grin. Jem turned bright red and looked in front of him.

"She is a lovely girl, from what I have seen. But I barely know her and she is going to be our foster sister," Jem paused. Crap I completely forgot about the foster sister part. That's one more reason to push her away, "So no, William, we both don't like Tessa." Jem lowered his head, looking sullen. He was lying to me. I think he did like Tessa, but wouldn't fess up to it because he knew I- he thought I liked Tessa.

I was about to press on when there was a light knock on the door. We both looked up. The door cracked open and Tessa stepped in.

"I'm sorry if I was interrupting something, but Charlotte told me to collect everyone for a family meeting. Everyone else is already downstairs."

Nope. I could not handle this.

I pushed myself off the bed and grabbed my leather jacket off of its hook, and pushed passed Tessa towards the stairs.

Jem called out from behind me, "What are you doing, Will?"

"I'm going out!" I called back as I bounded down the stairs. Henry jogged out of the study and Charlotte followed him. The rest of my siblings all looked my way.

"William, we are having a family meeting, and I demand your attendance." Charlotte looked stern, but I ignored her.

" _Please_ , we can hardly have a family meeting with a  _stranger in the house_. She's just some  _American_  girl, who is obviously  _only going to cause us trouble_. You should throw her out when you still have the chance." I hated myself. I couldn't stop there, though. I had to hurt Charlotte more, "And we are not a family! We are an unstitched patchwork quilt. We are different troubled kids from different backgrounds that you want to bring together, but newsflash, most of them hate me! So why don't you give up your Brady Bunch dream, because it is  _not going to happen_." I sneered at her and spit the words so venomously she visibly flinched. I smirked, and turned to the door. I saw Tessa at the bottom of the stairs. She looked horrified.  _Good_ , I thought.

"I'm going out," I shouted again. This time, no one stopped me.

* * *

Charlotte decided to postpone the family meeting until breakfast. I knew that Henry had information on Nate, but they really wanted us all to be there. The said they'd give Will the night to cool off.

God, Will. What he had said had nearly made me burst into tears, but I wouldn't cry. Not in front of anyone, at least.

Charlotte ended the disastrous meeting, and we went to have dinner. Jem wasn't there. I asked Charlotte where he was. She said Jem wasn't feeling well.

After Charlotte dismissed us from dinner, I asked Sophie to help me find my way back to my room. She said all of our rooms were in the same hall, so it would be easy to navigate. She took me down the first corridor to the left and to the end, and there was my room. My trunks were up there already, although I don't know how they got there. It must've been Henry or Jem or Thomas. I couldn't be bothered right now. I just wanted to sleep. I lied down on the bed and kicked off my shoes. I realized I probably should've changed into pajamas or taken a shower. I didn't really know how long I had worn the clothes for. I think it was three days. I probably smelled like a sewer. Reluctantly, I left the cocoon of the bed and walked into the adjacent en suite.

I stripped the clothing and kicked it into the corner. There was shampoo, conditioner, body wash, shaving cream, razors, soap, a washcloth, and a loofah all neatly lined up in the shower stall already. After fiddling with the shower knobs for a while, I figured out how to make it hot or cold and stepped inside.

And I'm pretty sure it was the best shower I had ever had. I hadn't taken one since I was on the Main. I washed off three and a half days worth of dirt and worry. I returned my hair to its wavy, brown self. I tried not to think about the current event, but when you're doing nothing but getting pelted by water, yor mind starts to roam free.

The thoughts bombarded my brain at such a rate I couldn't stand it. I slid down against the shower wall and sat on the bottom, getting blanketed by water. I thought about Nate, mostly. I don't know why I agreed to wait until tomorrow. I can't wait for it. Nate was out there somewhere and I needed my big brother. Without him, I had no one. If no one in the entire world cared about you, did you really exist at all?

I thought about how I thought I saw something in Will, and how I put my hope in him, only to have it crushed. I thought of his words, which were probably right. I was only going to cause trouble. I do, everywhere I am. I thought of the dark sisters and the magister. I thought of how I have to be interviewed by the police and I thought about Charlotte enrolling me in her school, The Institute. The last thing I needed was more critical teens.

Eventually, I managed to collect my thoughts, and got up again. I stood under the scalding hot waterfall until my skin was raw, red, and shriveled.

* * *

I sat on the bed, reading an introductory packet to the institute Charlotte had given me. I needed to know the rules for the Institute, and so I read. I had dried off and put on some sweat pants and a long sleeved waffle shirt. I had on a bathrobe I had found hanging on the back of the bathroom door.

I was about three pages into the book when I heard soft music coming into the room. It almost lulled me to sleep, it was so beautiful. My curiosity got the best of me and I kicked off the covers and padded to the door. I opened it silently and followed the music to the room across from mine. The door was open a crack. I pushed it open further and peaked in. I saw Jem standing in front of his bed with a violin pressed up against he neck. In the moonlight, he looked like he was glowing. He moved the bow with such precision and passion, I had to stop my self from gasping. He played with his eyes closed. I had never heard the piece he was playing, so I wondered if he had written it himself. I leaned on the door frame, contently listening to his melodic song until he spoke up.

"Will? Will, is that you?" His eyes weren't open, but he had stopped playing. I don't know how he heard me. I don't think I made any noise.

Jem opened his eyes and turned towards me. When he saw it was me, he grinned.

"You're not will."

"No, but I thought my disguise was quite realistic." I gestured to my robe.

"The day I see Will in a lady's robe is the day the world ends." He put down his violin in its case and sat on his bed. I realized that I had caused him to stop playing.

"I'm sorry!" I said louder than I meant to, but I was panicking. How could I have been so rude? "I didn't mean to interrupt you, but my room is right across the hall, and it was so beautiful, I couldn't help-"

"That's all right, Tessa. I was almost done, anyway." Jem grinned at me and gestured me over. I sat next to him on his bed. He was a lot taller than me, even while sitting. He looked down at me from where he was perched.

"I'm glad you came in here, actually. I would like to apologize for Will's behavior…" Jem paused and would've continued if I didn't cut him off.

"No, Jem, please don't. It is not your obligation, or place, to apologize for Will. If he wants forgiveness, then he will have to do it himself." Jem nodded and looked back towards the door. We sat there in silence for a few seconds until I spoke.

"You weren't at dinner," I didn't phrase it as a question, but it was one, "Charlotte said you weren't feeling well. Are you feeling better?"

"I was simply tired, that's all." Jem shrugged and grinned at me again. Now that he said it, I could see it in his eyes. He did look tired, and there was that look I always saw when I viewed him. He always looked ill.

"So, Jem, how long have you lived with the Branwells?" I asked him, suddenly interested in his past. He looked a little uncomfortable with the question.

"Almost five years now."

"Where were you from? I mean, before you moved in with Charlotte."

Jem stood up and leaned against his fireplace, "Shanghai. Do you know where that is?"

I quirked my eyebrow, "China. Doesn't everyone know that?"

Jem laughed, "You'd be surprised."

"So, why did you come here if you lived in China?"

"Well, my father was an Englishmen and my mother was from Shanghai. After they passed, I was moved to London to be cared for by my uncle, but he wouldn't take me in. I was put into the foster system and was taken in by the Branwells."

 _How did your parents die?_  But I couldn't ask him that. "How long has everyone else been here?" Jem looked relieved that I didn't continue to ask about his past.

"Will came less than a year after I did. Jessamine came almost three years after that. Sophie and Thomas came together a few months after Jessamine, and Cecily came only four or five months ago."

"And you all go to the institute?"

"You ask a lot of questions, don't you?" Jem looked up and smiled at the ceiling, before looking down and smiling at me.

I grinned back shyly, "My brother always says curiosity is my besetting sin."

Jem pushed off from the fireplace and sat on the trunk in front of his bed, "As sins go, it isn't the worst one. Go ahead; ask me whatever you want. I can't sleep anyway, and distractions are welcome."

"Okay… so is Will always so mercurial?" Jem's mouth turned into an "o" and then he shut it. He was obviously surprised by the question. It was a while until he answered.

"No, not usually. Most of the time he is only like what you saw in the study, but we all know it is just a front. You saw how he acted around you. He tried to comfort you about your brother. That's him. That's how he is. He just wants to push people away."

"Well, it's certainly working." I didn't understand how a person could pretend to be that horrible.

"Trust me, he's had a lot of practice." So he's been doing this faking for a while, then. I don't know why someone would want to have no one love them. I didn't get it.

"Tessa?" Jem's voice broke into my thoughts.

"Yes?"

"Forgive me for asking, but your parents- they're dead, aren't they?"

"Did Henry tell you that?"

"No, he didn't need to. After a while, orphans learn to recognize one another. May I ask- were you young when it happened?"

Usually, when someone asked me about my parents or my family life, I became guarded. I don't know why, but this boy I had met only hours ago made me feel comfortable. I felt like I could tell him anything.

"I was three when they died in a car accident. I barely remember them at all, just what they look like. I sort of remember flashes of memories, like the smell of my father's shirts. I can't smell them in my head, but if I smell the scent in the world, I would automatically think of my father," I subconsciously grabbed my angel and twisted it in my fingers, "My brother Nathaniel and I were raised by my aunt Harriet. But, she-" I couldn't finish my sentence. My throat closed up and my eyes stung. I became more emotional thinking of my aunt's death than my parents'. Just imagining her on the hospital bed, holding my hand clouded my eyes. I had tried not to cry then. I knew she was suffering and I didn't want to be selfish by asking her to stay, or by making her feel bad because she was dying. I stayed strong and let her go. Only after her hand went limp and the heart monitor went flat did I let the tears fall. It took a very long time to stop them.

I reigned in my emotions and shoved them down. I wouldn't cry again for the same reason. I cleared my throat, "She died recently. She had cancer. We found it too late. She was already in the late stages."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Jem said, and he did sound sorry.

"It wouldn't have been as bad if my brother was there, but he was already here, in London. Before Aunt Harriet died, he would send us presents like chocolates and tea, and post cards, and call us saying how great it was here. After Aunt died, I was sent a boat ticket to Southampton. I had to pack up all of my things and abandon the house I grew up in. And it isn't even that great here. And Nate is missing and I'm being given to the magister, whoever the hell that is-" I broke off again and looked at Jem, who looked confused, but didn't ask anything.

"I'm sorry, I'm blabbering. You don't want to hear this. I'm a can of worms, you know." I gave him an awkward smile. But Jem ignored me.

"What is your brother like?"

I didn't know how to answer that question. It took a bit of thought. Henry had asked me what my brother would've done to be in the situation he is now, not what he was like.

"My aunt said he was a dreamer. He lived in the future, and didn't care about the past or the present, really. He had dreams of getting everything we ever wanted. He gambled, a lot. I think it was because losing wasn't part of his dreams."

"Dreams can be dangerous things."

"No, no. Not his. I'm not saying this right. He was a great brother." I was going to cry again, but I pinched my arm.

"I just miss him."

"That's understandable, he's the only family you have left, and he's the reason you came to this foreign country. You think you're alone."

The silence consumed us again, but Jem spoke up this time.

"Don't tell me those are all the questions you have." He lightened the mood.

"Oh, I have more than you think. Why can't you sleep?" I had surprised him again. He looked hesitant to answer the question. He could lie or deflect, but I could sense that Jem didn't lie.

"I have bad dreams."

"I'm sorry. At least they produce beautiful music." I offered him an apologetic smile.

"Beautiful? More like nightmarish." Jem chuckled again.

"Please! It's the loveliest thing i've heard since coming to this awful city."

"London isn't awful," Jem looked at me with dreamy eyes, "You simply have to get to know it. You must come out with me tomorrow, after I am back form classes. I can show you the parts that are beautiful- that I love."

"Singing praises of our fair city?" I almost gasped and turned towars the quiet voice. Will was in the doorway leaning all his weight against the frame. He looked damp and tired. He still managed to appear amused, though. His clothing was ruffled and dirty. I wondered what he had been up to.

"We treat you well here, James. I doubt i'd have that luck in Shanghai. What do they call us again?" Will slurred the words.

" _Yang guizi,_  foreign devils." Will smiled the way Lucifer might have smiled, moments before he fell from heaven. "See, Tessa. I'm a devil. So are you." He detached himself from the doorway and through himself onto the bed next to me.

"Your hair is wet. Where have you been, Will?" Jem asked and stood up.

"The Devil's Tavern, if you must know." Will closed his eyes and twiddled with his fingers.

"Are you highly intoxicated?" I couldn't help but blurt.

"Quite possibly. Anyway, I was robbed by a little girl."

"A little girl?" This was ridiculous.

"Yes, Tessa, and stop interuppting. So a child reached into my pocket, hopefully only searching to grab my wallet. I pushed her away but, it turned out to be a midget in a girl costume. He proceded to try to fight me, and he through me out the door into the wet streets." Will concluded and stopped to breathe.

"Wait. A midget?"

"Yes, Six-fingered Nigel." I was not believeing this.

"Your boyfriend?" Jem spoke up. This made me more confused.

"I'm afraid I had to end it with him after the brawl. It just wasn't working out." Jem laughed, but was cut off by a reching sound that came out of his chest. He doubled over and sank onto his knees.

Will leapt off of the bed and sank next to Jem. He wasn't stumbling or looking amused. He seemed sober and like an actual person.

"James, are you okay? Do we have to take you to the hospital? Is it bad?" Will looked around frantically. His eyes landed on me, and he looked as if he had forgotten i'd existed. He quickly stood up and grabbed me by the arm. and ushered me to the door.

"Wait! Jem! What's going on? Is he okay?" I craned my neck around Will to see Jem. Will closed the door behind him and grabbed my shoulders.

"Tessa, go back to your room. I can handle this," he said sternly.

"No! What is wrong with Jem?"

"Tessa!"

"What is going on?"

"Please, Tess. I'm begging you. Go back to your room." He let go of my arms and clasped his hands together. His eyes pleaded, and I believed that he could handle it. Jem was alone, and Will wouldn't leave until I was gone.

Reluctantly, I nodded my head, "Okay."

Will opened the door, slid in, and shut it in my face.


	11. Rude Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I like to hit Will where it hurts.

I turned my back and leaned on the closed door. I inhaled deeply, taking in the lingering scent of Will; dampness, must, and sweat. No alcohol. A person who claimed to be recently drunk must smell, at least slightly, of alcohol. Now that I thought about it, his breath hadn't smelled of alcohol, either. I didn't understand why someone would lie about being drunk. He must've been lying about the night's events too. Was it for Jem's and my enjoyment? I didn't enjoy it in the least. I was just confused and taken aback. It wasn't likely that I would've believed the tale anyway, but it was now confirmed in my mind that Will had been dishonest.

Inside the room, I heard a groan and shuffling noises. There was the sound of sheets being crinkled, and then crinkled some more. After that, silence. I continued to lean on the door, waiting to see if any other commotion would abruptly start. I shut my eyes and rested my ear on the door. Once it had been silent for a matter of minutes, I was content that nothing major had happened. If it had, there would've been more noises and most likely the summoning of Charlotte or Henry, or the hospital. I reached to put my hand on the wall, but underestimated where I was on the door and scratched my fist lightly on the door, making a thump. I wasn't sure if the sound was loud enough to be audible from the inside of the door.

I stiffened, frozen in place. My eyes squeezed shut and my heart pounded. I wasn't sure why I was nervous. If Will heard me, the worst he would do was tell me to go away… hopefully. I guess that the past day's events had set me on edge.

I unclenched my fists and let out my breath, trying to relax.

The door opened.

All my weight was on the door.

I fell.

I fell towards the floor.

I never hit.

I would've hit the floor if there hadn't been two strong arms waiting in the air, prepared to carry my weight.

I was too surprised to scream, or shriek, or squeak.

Despite these facts, when I settled in Will's arms, I found that there was a hand, not my own, clamped over my mouth.

I looked up into his eyes.

There was a smirk on his mouth, but his eyes were hard. I couldn't tell if he was angry with me, annoyed, or amused.

I saw his face come closer to mine as he leaned down towards my own.

His face came closer until it was close enough for our noses to touch. If I stretched, I could kiss his full lips, or I could rub our noses, or I could just stare into his eyes all day.

This trail of thought broke off as his face changed course and he placed his mouth against my ear.

"Goodnight, Tess," he whispered softly.

He shifted my weight and propped me back onto my feet. He gently pushed me back out the door. I was too mystified to resist as the door shut behind me.

The next morning, I woke up to someone shaking my arm. I shot out of bed and looked around. My senses were disoriented and I couldn't remember where I was, until finally Sophie's familiar face became apparent in my mind. When I settled down, Sophie had backed up into the corner, a look of shock on her face.

"A-are you okay, Tessa?" Sophie sputtered. I was afraid I had terrified the poor girl.

I managed a grin and said back, "Yes, I'm alright. I was just startled, that is all."

Sophie seemed mildly content with this answer, so she nodded, "Tessa, Charlotte sent me up here to wake you. We are about to leave for school and she wants you to come with us, just for a tour of the grounds and to become comfortable. Just so you won't be completely lost your first day," Sophie bowed her head and turned for the door, "I would hurry. You might miss the breakfast drama otherwise."

As I walked into the dining room freshly dressed in black jeans, converse, and An Imperial Affliction fandom tee, I could hear nothing but screaming.

Oh my god these people might be insane.

Will seemed to be in a two-way argument with Cecily and Jessmine. Jem was raising his voice, if only to be heard, towards Will telling him to calm down. Charlotte and Henry were arguing while simultaneously trying to calm the others down. Sophie was off to the side, talking softly to Thomas.

I couldn't decipher anything anyone was saying, except the occasional "Calm down!" from Charlotte or Henry, or even Jem. The noise was too much for me to handle this early in the morning. I walked back to the entryway and pivoted, just when everything silenced and the only thing to be heard was a sly, "Tessa, I'm so glad you could join us. Isn't this a lovely morning?" coming from Will.

I inwardly cringed and slowly turned back around. Everyone was staring at me with surprised looks.

Will has his eyebrow quirked and that signature devil smirk.

In that moment, he reminded me of Flynn Rider with his smoulder.

But then that moment ended and I broke out of my Flapunzel fantasy and I was in the middle of a tense and crowded room with all eyes on me.

I averted my eyes from Will's and looked at the floor, "Um- Sophie told me that my presence was requested… And I'm here. What is going on?"

Charlotte stepped in front of Will and cleared her throat, "I'm terribly sorry that you had to witness that, Tessa. Unfortunately, it's almost a common occurrence in this household." Charlotte must've seen the uncertainty on my face because she continued, "Not that our affection for one another is compromised."

Jessamine scoffed and rolled her eyes, "Will can take my affection for him and shove it up his ass."

Will turned to her, "You know what else can be shoved up my ass, Jessamine?" Will made an obscene gesture, which was half covered up by Charlotte chastising him.

"William! Go get your rucksack together," she circled her gaze around the room, "The rest of you, finish your breakfast."

She scurried back to me, "What would you like to eat? All of the kids have different cereal preferences, so we have many different kinds. We can make eggs. If we had time, we could make English pancakes, which we don't. Maybe on the weekend."

I told her I would just have some toast before she started explaining more things again.

She went to fix the food and I sat at the now full table, next to Jem and Jessamine. I turned to Jessamine and asked her what was happening before I walked in.

"Will. Will was happening."

"Am I supposed to know what that means?"

"Please, you've lived under the same roof as him for a matter of hours. Most dimwitted people can determine that Will is a total prick in a few minutes; at most, an hour. I assumed your intelligence was superior to the school idiots, but maybe I was wrong." She made a little hmph noise.

Wow, she is a rude person.

"I'm sorry that I let you down. I just choose not to make judgments about people whom I have only met a few hours ago. They might have certain reasons for the way they were acting. Maybe you're just having a bad day and aren't always a bitch. In Will's case, he's been half a prick, and half kind. So, I don't know what to think about him thus far. Please enlighten me." I smiled at her with just as much disdain as she was looking at me with.

At last, she relented and turned back to her fruit.

"You were half correct. William Herondale is a complete and utter prick 100 percent of the time. I don't know what you're talking about with this "half the time" shite."

It didn't seem right to me that a girl so pristine could curse so naturally.

"Well, what were you fighting about today?"

"It was the usual. It basically goes like this: he says a variation of calling me a whore, whether its attention or just a plain whore, and I retort by calling him a man whore or just comment on him being an asshole with no friends and how nobody can love him because he's a son of a bitch, and then saying that the only person who can stand him is Jem because-" Jessamine broke off suddenly, and I followed her gaze to Jem's on the other side of me. She looked at him with a bit of sympathy..

"Sorry, Jem. You know it's not personal. I like to hit Will where it hurts." Jessamine didn't explain any further, but just continued her rant, skipping over the part she had left off at.

"It's about this time that Jem tries to break us up, and if it continues, Henry and Charlotte come in, and sometimes even Cecily."

Jessamine stopped, and I knew she was finished with her speech.

Charlotte walked over and gave me my toast. I took a bite and chewed thoughtfully.

"And… This is a regular thing?" I looked around the table. Almost everyone nodded.

"Usually he argues with Jessamine, but it could be with me, or Thomas, or even Charlotte. He just knows what bone to pick with each of us." Cecily spoke up while putting on mascara.

"You will find soon enough, that he will know exactly what buttons to push with you. You just can't let it bother you. Your anger will only encourage him."

"Instruction does much, but encouragement everything." Will walked back into the room. I recognized the quote form somewhere, not from a recreational book, but maybe something from history class. I couldn't place the quote, but Will had already moved on.

"I don't think Tessa here wants to hear about our dysfunctional family. She'll learn and become part of it soon enough."

Taking a cue from Will, everyone got up from the table and walked out the door to a car. I got up and shuffled after them, but Charlotte stopped me.

"Tessa, you'll be riding with me. I'll need to show you around and there isn't enough room in Jem's car, anyway."

She looked at me as she grabbed her bag.

"Are you ready to go?" I nodded and followed her out to her car, heading to the left side with Charlotte, only to realize I was on the wrong side, and went to the passenger side. England is so weird.

**Author's Note:**

> Review please! I really want to improve for you guys. Don't feel the need to hold back.


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